The Trials of Boq and Nessa
by wickedmetalviking1990
Summary: "We deserve each other", was all Nessarose said. That was all the justification she needed, for everything that she had done, and what she was about to do. Musical-verse, between acts. Bessa pairing. Rated T.
1. Fallen

**(AN: For my twentieth ff, I will depict this lost tale. I had always imagined what went on between Acts I and Acts II of _Wicked_. Here is a little side adventure for two little noticed and under-appreciated characters. Hope you like it)**

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><p><strong>Fallen<strong>

It had been too long since she had left Shiz. But life went on as it usually did for everyone there. But not for Nessarose Thropp. Ever since the day at the train station, she had been moody. Maybe it was about Boq, who suddenly ran off when Galinda called him 'Bick.' She had to find him and talk to him, know exactly what it was that had made him run off. She guessed it was because she was deformed, and it cut her deeply.

She found Boq hiding near the statue, where he had asked her out to the OzDust dance several nights ago.

"What's wrong?" She asked, pulling her chair up next to where he sat. Boq said nothing, trying to ignore the fact that she was sitting across from him. He picked up his book and tried to hide himself.

"Is it me?"

Still no answer.

"Tell me, Boq!"

But he remained laconic as ever. Getting annoyed, she turned her chair around and began wheeling herself away when she heard a sigh from behind her. Turning around, she saw him stand to his feet, a defeated look in his eyes.

"I think I should be honest with you." he said. "Listen, I...uh...fancy...Miss Galinda. I wanted to go with her to the OzDust Ball, but she said I should take you instead."

"Why? Did she feel sorry for me because I'm in a wheel-chair?" Nessa asked.

"No, of course not! She said she'd think better of me if I did."

"So all this time, you were using me to get to her!"

"Yes, Miss Nessarose, that's right."

She felt something in her throat, that fell somewhere between anger and sadness. She didn't want to say anything, so she wheeled herself away. Once she thought she had left his ear-shot, she broke down into tears. All she felt was pain all over: from her numb and senseless legs to her heart, which she wished was hard, cold and senseless as well.

Suddenly, a wheel on her chair rolled off the path just enough to throw her out of her chair and knock it on its side. Now the pain struck her in her legs, which by now she had thought had gone numb. But they were still there; though no longer the twisted mess they were when she had been born prematurely, the bones inside them had never fully grown and now, though they looked on the outside perfectly normal, they were inwardly worthless for walking or standing.

She cried out in pain but also in utter loneliness. She was lost and alone: there was no Elphaba, no father, no nurse-maids to help her. Even Madam Morrible had taken leave of Shiz the very day Elphaba left. Nothing else she heard but the hideous sound of her own cries ringing in her ears. She had never really grown up: she was always dependent on someone or something. And now, lying helplessly on her stomach miles away from home and family, she felt even more helpless and needful of someone to save her.

Just then, a shadow crossed over her sight.

"What in Oz's name happened?" a familiar voice asked.

"The chair skipped and knocked me out of it." She groaned, trying to hold back from crying again.  
>The figure stepped down and Nessarose found herself being picked up by strong arms and lifted off the ground.<p>

Looking up at her rescuer, she saw that it was Boq. Though she wanted to make a very unladylike spit on his face, there was something else that she felt filling the emptiness inside her. It was the feeling of his hands.  
>Elphaba's hands were dry and dusty from pouring over books most of her life, father's were old and calloused from a life-time of work, and her own were rough from having to push her own chair about. But Boq's hands were different: she felt that from the moment she took his hand at the dance. They were rough and hard, but there was strength in them. Strength, perhaps, that could keep her from ever falling again. Strength that could make her feel strong.<p>

"Thank you, Boq." she said, looking up at him.

Boq simply stammered as he set her chair back upright and placed her gently upon the pillow on its seat. He walked away as hastily as he could, trying not to look back. But she looked at him, and watched him leave until he was lost to her searching eyes.

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><p>Nessarose Thropp never realized how much she depended on other people until now. Yes, her arms had plenty of strength in them, but they could only reach so far. Besides, she had always had Elphaba dress her and place her in her bed. Without her, every little task seemed nigh impossible.<p>

_Maybe_, she thought, _that was the reason Boq stayed on after they had left. It was pity._

She hated being pitied, being coddled: treated like a fragile little china-doll from Quadling. She always had to be helped, propped up, supported, and it made her feel weak, impotent and worthless: like baggage floating around, resting on the shoulders of greater men and women.

But the reality was that she was just that. She could not help herself, she could not change the fact that, because of her worthless legs, she could do almost nothing. It wasn't a pleasant life - not being able to change your filthy clothes or urinate on your own because of your worthless legs. The worst part was that her greatest help came from the one she had to blame for her condition.

The story she had learned from her father, the same story that Elphaba had eavesdropped upon so many years ago and later retold to her stupid blonde room-mate, was that it was Elphaba's fault she, Nessarose, was born this way. As her mother's stomach began to swell, their father feared the worst: a second child born with ugly green skin. A Munchkin-doctor suggested that he instruct her mother to chew the stems and leaves of a certain plant that grew in Quadling called the milk-flower. Common knowledge among "old wives' tales" was that the white sap of the milk-flower would insure that a child was born with pale skin.

But there were other complications. The plant was poisonous, and made Melena Thropp go into early delivery. Nessarose was saved, though the poisonous weed had shriveled her under-developed legs and killed her poor mother.

And so, for eighteen years, every time she dressed her, every time she reached for and gave her something that was beyond her reach...

Nessarose was reminded that her sister, her biggest helping hand, the one who made her painful, hard life a bit easier...

Was the cause of all her problems.

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><p>Nessarose awoke from her slumber in Madam Morrible's austere quarters. The desk was littered with papers and awards, while the walls were covered with postings from newspapers of various colors. Her attention came to a small picture in which there were two middle-aged women, both of them wearing very fish-like qualities in their faces. Madam Morrible wore spectacles and an elegant dress of pastel colors, though wholly indiscernible by reason of the sepia-quality of the photo. The other woman was shorter, a little plump, and wore plain, darker colors, though a flower hung upon her hat. A rose, it looked like. There was also a strange, shiny object clutched in the woman's hand, held as if to be hidden from view.<p>

A knock came at the door.

Nessarose gave a cry of shock, pulling her blankets over herself. She was not naked, but her pink slip was hardly any clothing to be worn in public.

"Madam Morrible?" a voice asked.

"She's not here." Nessarose replied.

"Well, can you open up?" the strange voice asked again.

"It's open." she responded.

The door opened, and a lad, barely older than Boq, walked into the room.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Mail-boy." he said. "This is for Madam Morrible, when she gets back..." He placed a rolled-up copy of a green-colored newspaper with golden words on her desk. "And this is for a Nessarose Thropp, care of Madam Morrible, Room 101, Crage Hall, Shiz University, Gilikin."

"I'm Nessarose Thropp."

The mail-boy handed her a letter, whose return-address was from the telegraph office in Center Munch, the nominal capital of Munchkinland, though the Thropps held sway at Colwen Grounds.

The boy departed, and once she was sure he was gone, she opened the letter and read the message.

"_DEAREST NESSA. COME TO MUNCHKINLAND IMMEDIATELY. I AM VERY SICK. TROUBLED OVER THE NEWS. YOUR FATHER._"

She checked the date on the message. At least ten days old from Elphaba's departure to the Emerald City.

But what news had he heard that was troubling him so?

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><p><strong>(AN: Is that enough to get you interested? Do you want to hear more?)<strong>

**(There's not a lot to work with when it comes to Boq. Winnie Holzman obviously doesn't like men - they're either stupid and powerless, like Fiyero and the Wizard, or stupid and insensitive, like Boq and Frex [Elphaba's father]. I thought he'd have to reveal _something_ to Nessa, since he made something of a scene after the Train Station sequence.)**

**(Will hopefully get some more updated a.s.a.p.)**


	2. The Agreement

**(AN: Thank you for the review. Originally, that last part was part of a second chapter, but I decided to tack it on to the beginning in order to build some kind of suspense. As for Boq's behavior, let me state that although he may not love Nessa, that doesn't mean he's totally heartless. How many of you, if you heard someone crying out for help, would just turn a deaf ear and walk away? [don't answer that, most of you probably _would_ walk away]. The way I see it, Boq may be a star-struck idiot, but I've been in his situation before...as I have been in Nessa's situation before as well. Boq is just being nice, but Nessarose is mistaking his 'niceness' for true affection. Believe me, I've been there before.)**

**(New chapter, _totally_ new chapter.)**

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><p><strong>The Agreement<br>**

At nine o'clock, Boq entered Madam Morrible's office to help Nessarose get herself dressed and prepared for the morning. This was the job for a servant, he told himself, and a female servant at that. Some of the things he was being told to do were things that were frowned upon even by the country-folk of Munchkinland, the "little hicks of the East" as they were called in Gilikin.

But Madam Morrible was busy, Elphaba was missing and there weren't any other women around to help. Besides, Boq was in a better mood today. Maybe because he had some time to sleep off his frustration, or because, while working with Nessa, he saw just how helpless she was.

"Nessa?" he asked, pausing suddenly.

"Yes, Boq?"

"Uh," he cast his eyes to the floor, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday." _Okay, that's good enough_, he thought. "I didn't mean it."

Silence.

Nessarose wanted to believe him. Turning around, she saw that he looked sincere enough. But what he said yesterday hung about like a shadow of some Khalidah.

"I know why you said it." she returned.

"You do?" Boq asked with curiosity. Sure enough, he had said some very harsh things yesterday, but did she really know _why_ he was apologizing, or why he had said the things he said?

"If only I weren't in this _stupid_ chair!" she quivered, slapping the arm of her chair out of equal frustration.

"What do you mean?" a very bewildered Boq asked.

"That's why you like Galinda, isn't it?" Nessa returned. "Because she's not..." She sighed, looking down at her feet, both of them lying useless in their braces upon the chair.

Boq found himself unable to speak. _Why, in Oz's name_, he asked. _Do I have to find myself in such hideocious positions?_

Galinda was the woman of his dreams: dazzlingly beautiful, roughly his own height - which was something, since he was short by Munchkinlander standards - and exuding so much beauty and charm that Boq felt he would die if he did not have her. But she was also shallow and aloof.

On the other hand, Nessarose was pretty, though not as stunningly beautiful as the blond Gilikinese girl, but she was much more approachable, more down-to-earth, as it were. Her eyes, however, Boq found were her greatest beauty. Unlike Galinda, she did not ooze pink and glitter from every pore, but seemed like a normal young woman - but Boq did not want normal.

And, of course, there _was_ the wheel-chair.

"I mean, uh," Boq said. "You're nice, and-and pretty, and you have a lovely smile."

"Really?" Nessa turned around and Boq saw that amazing smile creep across her face.

Boq felt terrible as he spoke the next few words. "B-But, you know, the thing is, Galinda was...well, you know...the moment I first saw her, gee, I don't know, I feel as if I lost my heart!"

Nessa saw the look on Boq's face, that of a lovesick puppy. She turned away and nodded.

"I understand." she commented gloomily.

"But that doesn't mean we can't stay friends, right?" Boq quickly returned.

"I don't know," she replied. "I have to return to Munchkinland."

"Why?" Boq asked. "The spring semester's hardly over."

"My father called me!" she said. "He said he wanted to see me immediately. Said he's sick."

"Oh, okay." Boq stated. "Well, I guess that I should..."

"Boq!" she gripped his hand. He turned around.

"I'll need someone to go with me," she said.

He sighed. This was exactly what he had been fearing. If anything, he needed time away from Nessarose in order to get his thoughts straightened out. But she didn't want him out of her sight for a second, it seemed.

"Please?"

It was almost impossible for him to stay true to his plan while looking at her eyes.

"Alright!" he sighed. "I'll go with you as far as...well, wherever you live in Munchkinland. But once you're there, I can return to Shiz."

"Agreed." she nodded.

"Is there anything else you want?" he asked, throwing his arms out.

"Nothing just yet." she replied, shaking her head.

He nodded then walked out of the room, running back to Ozma Towers as soon as he was past the doors. Nessarose saw him, and it pained her to think that he could not stand her presence so much that he was practically running away from her every chance she got.

_Oh!_ she thought._ Why did I tell him he could leave once I got back to Colwen Grounds?_

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><p><strong>(AN: Well, hopefully I will be able to update frequently a story with two characters I can relate to over my other <em>Wicked<em> stories with just one character with whom I've found myself in a love-hate relationship.)**


	3. First Night Together

**(AN: Wow, I'm surprised at the reaction so far. I thought I'd hit my creative stride with the last several stories of mine, but it seems I still have some creative plot-bunnies bouncing about in my mess of a brain to create some kind of wonderful. [and i have no idea who wrote that song. lol])**

**(What do you think, are twenty stories enough to start making comments about my writing style? I've often wondered if I've started falling into a kind of predictable writing style. So far, no _real_ analysis of my stories - especially in comparison to my other works - have been made. That would be helpful, but, hey, beggars can't be choosers.)**

**(New chapter! As far as last chapter, I had to make references to "The Wicked Witch of the East", and I'm sure there will be more. When it comes to _Wicked_ the musical, what is unsaid is more powerful than what has actually been said. If you're quick on what is 'inferred' in the dialogue, you can follow along, despite the weak points of the plot. However, real people don't work on inference, assumption and reading into what someone meant by what they didn't say - believe me, I've learned that the hard way. Therefore I had to have Boq eventually say how he felt for G[a]linda.)**

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><p><strong>First Night Together<strong>

That day when the carriage rolled up at Shiz's lawn, Boq had a few doubts about how this journey was to be under-taken. The thought of Nessarose trying to fit her chair into the cramped compartment of the carriage did not seem like a possibility. True, the Gilikin Railway, which had recently added a new length of tracks that reached all the way to the Emerald City, was not 'handicapped friendly'.

But in Boq's mind, it was much quicker than troubling with a hideous carriage ride that would take even longer.

Even so, he had his things packed and was standing outside by the carriage, waiting for Nessarose to come wheeling her way out of Crage Hall.

At last she appeared, with one of the other, more sympathetic female students carrying her suitcase. Madam Morrible was still nowhere to be found.

They said nothing as the young woman put Nessarose's suitcase into the back of the carriage, where the driver then secured it with a length of rope. Now they exchanged looks of 'you first' as they stood in front of each other, neither wanting to say what was about to happen next.

"Can you help me into the carriage?" Nessarose said at last.

Boq immediately felt warm and not a little bit uncomfortable. The first time he had picked her up out of her chair, it had been an accident and he was only being nice. That was quite excusable. This, however, was quite another thing.

He walked over to the chair and knelt down, sliding one arm around Nessa's upper back. Thankfully, her skirt was long enough that his other arm would not be touching any skin. His right arm he wrapped under the crook of her knees and then, using the strength born out of a youth spent in the fields of Munchkinland, lifted Nessarose quite easily out of her chair and held her in his arms once again.

Eager to finish this quite uncomfortable task, he walked over to the carriage and sat her upon the seat inside the carriage.

"Wait, my pillow!" she added.

Boq nodded then ran back to the empty chair, taking out the still-warm pillow and placing it behind Nessarose's back. He then scurried back and tried to collapse the chair so that it would fit in the back of the carriage.

Nessa, however, was wishing he could have held her just a little bit longer. There was no use in denying that she was besotted with Boq. She noted how she would behave a little more together, a little bit nicer, around him. It was true, she treated Elphaba like a servant. But that wasn't exactly frowned upon at home. Elphaba did her duty to Nessa, as she should, since it was her fault that she was crippled to begin with, and their father had no qualms about how she treated Elphaba.

But not around Boq. She had been as nice as possible to him as she could. Why? It wasn't like he returned the affection.

Boq sat down in the carriage, disturbing her thoughts. The wheels rumbled and she swayed slightly as the vehicle lurched forward. He cast his eyes out the window, trying desperately not to look at the woman in front of him.

Not to look at her.

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><p>Three hours of silence passed between the two, during which Nessarose alternated between sleeping, looking at Boq, who was either sleeping or trying not to look at her, or looking out the window. The country-side rolled by quite swiftly, the violet-greens of lower Gilikin replaced by the outright greens of the Midlands, the plain upon which was situated the Emerald City.<p>

Nessa's thoughts went out to her sister. She hadn't heard the whole story, but there was something amiss. Rumors of an enemy, a sorcerer, at large filled Nessarose with fright. She hoped that Elphaba would be safe. Perhaps that was why Father called her back to Munchkinland. It made her all the more nervous and fearful, the thought of everything happening so sudden.

She wished that Boq would sit on her side, so she could have him place his strong, warm arms around her. Maybe that would make her feel better.

At midday, they stopped just outside the Emerald City. The driver left them for a while, returned with a newspaper and they took off once again, not bothering to enter the Emerald City. They had to get to Munchkinland quickly, without pausing too long for the sights and wonders of Oz's capital city.

Once the Emerald City was completely out of the imminent sight of the right-hand windows, Boq leaned out and spoke to the driver.

"How long will it take us to get to Munchkinland?" he asked.

"We should be on the borders by tonight," he returned. "If the Road is safe, we'll be at Colwen Grounds by tomorrow evening."

Boq then noticed a metal ax sitting by the driver's seat.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"Oh," the driver said. "One can never be too safe around here, especially these days, what with the Witch about, and everything."

"Which witch?"

"The Wicked Witch!" the driver returned. "Oz's name, boy, haven't you read the papers?"

Boq shook his head. The driver picked up his copy of _The Emerald Herald_ and gave it to him, then turned his attention to the horses he was leading.

Meanwhile, Boq was inside the carriage, reading the paper intently. Nessarose couldn't see much, just a few classified sections and a gossip column about Ozma, the Nome King and if the Deadly Desert really _was_ deadly.

"I knew it!" Boq suddenly spoke with authority. "Nothing good comes from anything unnatural, as they say in Munchkinland."

"What?" Nessa curiously queried.

"Oh, just the paper." he handed her the emerald-leaved paper, whose words were writ in letters of white, black and gold.

_About nine days ago,_ the article read. _An attempt was made on the life of Our Glorious Wizard by a fiend known so far only as 'the Wicked Witch.' According to an interview by Madam Morrible, Press Secretary to His Ozness, who, as the tickings of the Time Dragon Clock should have it, was also a witness at this terribulous event, the attack was undertaken by a single perpetrator._

_"Although we are quite certain the Witch acted alone in the attempt upon His Ozness," Madam Morrible stated. "It is quite likely that she has been receiving aid from various Animal terrorists in direct violation of Our Glorious Wizard. This, of course, explains the difficultiaries the Gale Force have faced in trying to capturate this monstrosity."_

_Madam Morrible later informed the people of the Emerald City in a public announcement that the Witch is to be considered very dangerous. She is described as being tall, thin, clothed in black and easily recognized by her unnatural green skin._

Nessa didn't read on anymore. She didn't need to. There was only one person in all of Oz with green skin.

Her sister.

What had she done, what had she said, when she went to meet the Wizard? Of course, she knew Elphaba to be a bit hot-headed and maybe even over-zealous when it came to Animal Rights: it was nothing new to Shiz, that Nessa knew for certain. Was it her curse? That strange thing that happened every time Elphaba was angry or frightened, what Madam Morrible had once lauded as a 'talent'. It had to have been something very terrible to merit _this _kind of reaction. Of course, Elphaba was not exactly normal when it came to being around people. In Nessa's mind, it was quite possible that, whether by accident or by design, Elphaba _had_ done something.

A strange, unwelcome mixture of sadness and anger filled up in Nessa's being. She was angry at Elphaba for leaving her. It was just like her mother, whom she never knew. Elphaba's place was at Nessa's side, taking care of her as a servant should. Or did she mean _sister_?

Nessa didn't want to be alone. She hated being alone, and now that Elphaba was a fugitive, she'd never be there to help her with dressing, never have her special brand of dry wit to season what was otherwise a boring dinner conversation with father. Never again would they have their brief and extremely rare sister-to-sister moments, where they exchanged confidences, sometimes even against father's wishes and beyond his knowledge. It wouldn't be long before she had lost Elphaba all together, before she was stuffed away in some cell in the dreaded Southstairs.

_That_ was why Nessa was sad.

* * *

><p>Night finally fell upon the carriage. Boq was still awake, though mostly out of fear than true defiance of sleep. The news about the 'Wicked Witch' put him on edge, and, unlike Nessa, he had read the last lines of the report.<p>

_Where will the Witch strike next? She has no allies and shows no favorites, as shown by her mutilation of the Wizard's monkey servants. According to reliable sources, witnesses stated that she called those beneath her to look for her in the west - the Winkie land, known for its clans of savages and relative lawlessness._

Even as the sun went down, he kept an eye out for the black silhouette of the Witch, looming against the golden setting sun, waiting to pounce upon them like a Lion upon a Goat.

"Boq?"

"Hmm?"

"It's a little bit cold out tonight," she said. February was a cold month, it seemed.

Fortunately, there weren't any blankets in their carriage compartment and Nessa hadn't packed a coat. Rolling his eyes, Boq carefully moved himself across to Nessa's side and placed his arm around her.

"How's that?" he asked, trying not to look at the head of 'dull' brown hair just inches away from his own face.

"Mmm, much better." she returned.

Boq got on to thinking, to keep his mind off Nessa. He wasn't particularly good at it, but he had to keep from thinking about her. _After all_, he reasoned, _we're just going back to Colwen Grounds and then I'm back to Shiz and it's me and Galinda forever_. Right? Was Nessa really as needy as she appeared to be?

"Nessa?"

"Mmm?"

"How old are you?" Probably not the best thing to ask, since that was usually taboo, to ask a woman about her age. But she was young enough that it probably wouldn't matter...would it?

"Nineteen." she returned.

"Uh, have you ever thought," he began. "About, maybe, just going out on your own? Making it on your own, I mean."

Nessa frowned, then pushed herself up to look at Boq.

"Well," she began. "The doctors have said that my legs are healthy enough, just...that they can't move on their own: like they're just...dead inside."

"But there must be other ways of getting around without using that chair." he exclaimed.

"I wish there were, Boq." _No, not this._ he thought, as he heard Nessa's voice breaking. _Anything but this_. "You don't know how much I wish I could walk, to be free of this chair and everyone's sympathy!" She sniffed back tears. "But I guess you wouldn't know what that's like."

But he did. He wanted to be free of her, free to do as he wished. If it meant freedom from her, he felt certain that he could take on a horde of Khalidahs single-handed...using nothing but a pitch-fork.

The two drifted off to sleep, the rumbling of the carriage's wheels lulling them into slumber.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: A little dialogue, and some explicating on what happens in the musical later on.)<strong>

**(This story looks like it will be quite short [maybe not even over 9000! lol]. But a lot will happen, that is for sure. I can't predict how many chapters I may write, but I've definitely got some more planned.)**

**(Thoughts on our two characters? Are they in character so far? Have to try and rationalize Nessa's fear of being alone, I hope I've gotten that across. Still feels vague to me, like its more on 'inference' than actual explication.)**

**(Unfortunately, no slashy moments. As for Nessa's age, I'm fudging some of the 'official' _Wicked_ facts. I've had to make up my own time-line of events for pretty much _all_ of my _Wicked_ fan-fics, but, as far as musical-verse goes, it's like this. Elphaba is three years older than Nessarose [as per the book], but she gets held back a few years until Nessa is college-age and she is sent with her to Shiz to assist her ["Remember, I'm only sending you to this school for one reason...", "I know, to look after Nessa."]. This would make Elphaba about...twenty-two in Shiz-era and [since my musical-verse time-gap between acts is roughly three years - it may vary with other fan-fics] twenty-five in Act II [or twenty-four, since her birthday is, imo, October 30th and Nessa dies on May 17th and Elphaba disappears about five days later]. You can therefore guess how old Nessa will be in Act II.)**

**(I assign the dates according to their relevance outside of Ozian universe. For instance, _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ was published on May 17th, 1900, therefore that is my starting date for when Dorothy arrives in Oz [cat-fight scene in Act 2]: also, _Wicked_ first premiered on Broadway on October 30th, 2003, which I use as Elphaba's birthday [excluding the 2003, since it would most likely be 1875 musical-verse and about 1863-2 book-verse].)**

**(Just a few thoughts about my _Wicked_ time-line. Most fan-fics have Elphaba aged nineteen at Shiz-era, which I [somewhat] use in my _Ozian Adventures_ series, ergo my 'fudging' up of the dates and such. In case anyone is interested in dates and chronological stuff and such. I know I am.)  
><strong>


	4. The Bridge

**(AN: I'm glad at least _Blue-eyesThropp_ likes this. I hope to get this done as soon as possible, but with major pressure to find a job [and being unable to find one], I've got quite enough as it is to deal with.)**

**(Fortunately, that all pales to insignificance in light of the fact that we do indeed have a new chapter!)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Bridge<strong>

When they at last rose from their slumber, the morning was well on its way. Boq tried his best to extricate himself from where he and Nessa had fallen asleep. He did not want to remember last night, although he knew that he had not done anything to her. She was of age, that much was true...

But his heart belonged to Galinda.

Looking out the window, he noticed that the Emerald City was nowhere in sight. The wide lands of the south stretched out through the right-most window and the tops of the Madeleines to the left-most window. Looking down, but with a care to keep his red cap from falling off his head, Boq noticed that they were now traveling via the Yellow Brick Road.

Good, he thought. That should speed us on our way.

On the other side, he saw Nessa stir from her sleep. Then she balked, looking up at something that was lying face-up on the floor.

_The Emerald Herald._

"We have to go faster!" Nessa stated, a look of abject horror etched across her face.

Boq nodded. For once, their purposes went hand in hand. She wanted to get to Munchkinland - to her father, was it? - as quickly as possible, and the sooner she got there, the sooner he would leave.

He looked back out the window.

"Faster!" he urged the driver. The sound of reins cracking across the backs of the horses and then a sudden jolt indicated that they were, indeed, going faster.

But not fast enough.

Suddenly, they came screeching to a halt. Nessa flew forward, and Boq had to hold her in place before she hit the side of the carriage face-first. After setting her upright in the carriage, Boq opened the door and turned to the driver.

"Why have we stopped?"

"The Road's been demolished." he returned.

True enough, where once a bridge of yellow brick spanned this tiny gully, there was now a yawning gap. It was too wide for them to jump across safely, either on foot or by way of the wagon.

"We have to keep going!" Nessa called out from the carriage.

"Not by this way, you can't." the driver said.

"We can climb down," Boq said. "Then climb back up."

"I'll not abandon the wagon!" the driver said.

So this would be where they parted ways. With the wagon, they would be in Colwen Grounds by supper time today. Without, it might as well be on the other end of the Deadly Desert.

Boq ran over to the carriage and began unfastening the ropes that bound his suitcase.

"Boq, what is it?"

"The road's out," he said. "But we gotta keep moving!"

With his suitcase in hand, and a healthy running start, Boq ran up to the brink of the gully and threw his suitcase over. Luckily, it landed safely on the other side. He then ran back and began removing Nessa's suitcase.

"So what are we doing, then?" she asked, her voice rising nervously.

"We're crossing the gully!"

"What?"

But he had already freed the next suitcase and was off at a running start.

"Take care of my luggage, Boq!" Nessarose called back.

But he wasn't listening. Whoosh! The little brown suitcase went flying through the air and landed next to his. He then ran back to the carriage and began removing the wheel chair.

"Boq, don't throw my chair! What if it breaks?"

"Here, I'll help." the driver offered.

It was not very heavy, but rather that two men throw it and it safely land on the other side than one and the possibility of it breaking increase. So Boq and the driver heaved the wheel chair, collapsed and therefore easily tossible, over the gulch and brought it to rest on the other side.

"Here," the driver said, walking back to his carriage. He returned with a length of rope and the ax from under his seat. "You'll need these, if you're going into the Pine Barrens alone."

Boq nodded, taking them one at a time. The rope he swung around his shoulder while the ax he held in one hand. It felt good, to have an ax back in his hands. He remembered his childhood in Munchkinland, growing up on the farm, he often did cut wood for the family's hearth, at least during the winter months.

He ran back over to the wagon, stepped inside and a few minutes later, emerged with Nessa cradled in his arms. He was, predictably, trying hard to not look him in the eyes. In contrast, she was practically beaming back up at him. Of all the possible fates there could be, to be stuck alone with her beloved Boq was one that she would gladly cherish.

If only she had use of her legs.

"If I can," the driver said. "I'll meet back up with you once I find my way around this ditch!" He then turned the wagon about and took off back down the Road.

They both sighed. Now there was little hope of getting to Colwen Grounds in a timely manner.

* * *

><p>Now they addressed themselves to getting down the gulch. Boq placed Nessa down on the grass at the side of the Road, then addressed himself to one of the trees. With the rope, he tied one end around the trunk of the tree, and made sure it was good and tight. He then took the slack and tossed it off the side of the ravine into the gulch. It was good, long rope and there was still plenty of slack left once it hit the ground. The ax went next, down the side of the gulch until it stuck fast in the dry earth below.<p>

He then walked back to Nessa, turned his back to her and sat down.

"Put your arms around my neck." he said. Nessa crawled from where she lay and threw her arms up around Boq's neck. Luckily, nineteen years of invalidity had made Nessa's arms rather strong.

Boq then pushed himself up into a bent-over standing position. Thus he waddled his way over to the brink of the gulch, then turned around and took hold of the rope. From on his back, Nessa was hard-pressed to keep her eyes from looking back over her shoulder and at the gorge into which they would now be walking.

The progress was slow, and tedious to say the least. With a large amount of dead weight clinging onto his back, Boq was hard-pressed to keep his balance. But the gulch wasn't very deep, about thirty feet at the most, and they were soon half-way down.

"What...caused this, d'you think?" Boq grunted.

"The bridge?" Nessa turned, to look at the gap where the bridge should have been. Sure enough, there were pieces lying in the gulch below them. "Well, the Road was commissioned by the Wizard so only an enemy of the Wizard would want to destroy it.

"I mean, the Road has united Oz as never before! It's one of the greatest boons of our country."

"So, yeah, who would want to destroy it?"

"Animals, maybe." Nessa's thoughts went to her sister. But she was silent on that subject. After all, she did not want people to know that she was related to a fugitive. Oh, how would she live down this shame?

Shame. That was most likely what had happened to Father. He heard about what she had done, and his shame was too great to bear. He was sickened by her behavior and now he needed her, his loyal daughter Nessarose, to come to him in his convalescence.

But even so, this kind of shame did not go easily. Father would have loads of work on his hands for the next several days, if not weeks or months. Surely there would be records of Elphaba at Shiz that could be traced back to Colwen Grounds, back to father. If someone put two and two together and discovered that the Wicked Witch with her green skin was actually Frexspar Thropp's unwanted elder daughter, oh, the horror that would ensue! It would cause a public scandal, the Wizard's Gale Force would be at their door-step, interrogating every one of them as a potential suspect. Strife and sorrow would never leave their home.

No, she would not allow this. She would remind father to erase every record of Elphaba's name. If she wanted to be a fugitive, then she would have to endure the consequences of being a non-person, which meant no familial ties.

Nessa was shocked to hear herself, her own thoughts, sound so harsh, so venomous...so cruel. Did she really have it in her? She had always appreciated Elphaba's help, and looked up to her as so many younger sisters to do their older siblings. But did she really hate her so much to ask their father to disown her?

They got down to the bottom of the gulch without much incident. Once at the bottom, Boq placed Nessarose down - in a part of the gully that looked at least a little clean - and then clambered up the side, trying to reach the top. He wasn't exactly an expert at mountain-climbing, but he knew enough to know that someone had to be at the top in order to secure the rope they would need to climb up the side of the face.

Alone, he could make it. But with her on his back, that would be a different story.

He removed the rope from the one end, slid back down, climbed up the other end and fastened the rope to the other side, the one closest to Munchkinland. Once done, he slid back down and put Nessa back on his back, then prepared to attack the next side.

It was indeed harder going up than it had been coming down. But then again, Boq's duty in going down was only to keep his balance, while letting gravity do the rest. Now he was going upward, _against_ the flow of gravity, with the added weight of the crippled Nessarose on his back. Even worse, the rope had no hand-holds, so he would be pulling his weight and her weight against the flow of gravity with nothing to hold onto, nothing to pull up against as he tried to bring them to the top.

They were barely half-way up, with no possible way of going any further. The rocky bottom of the gulch gave way to soft earth and sand that gave way even as his hand reached out for a firm hold.

Just then, a thought came to his mind. Tied to his belt on a length of rope was the ax.

"Nessa," he groaned. "Can you reach my ax?"

"I'm holding onto you!" she stated.

"I need it to keep going!" he added.

Her left arm coiling around Boq's neck like a serpent, she right hand reached at the rope tied around Boq's belt and lifted the ax out of its place.

"Whoa, wait, wait, wait!" he said. "I don't think we can do this!"

"Huh?"

"I'll need both hands," he said. "And you do too."

Boq was right. With her legs being practically dead weight, the only way she would be able to hold on would be with both hands, and therefore she could not be using the ax to cut hand-holds for Boq in the dirt. Nor could he, since he still needed one hand on the rope.

They crawled the rest of the way back down the side of the gully. Obviously, Boq wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the tool-box. He hadn't thought this plan out thoroughly.

"What if you went up first," Nessa said. "And then tied the rope to me and lifted me up that way?"

He nodded, then went up the side of the gully, pulling himself on the rope, the ax back in his belt. Once he gained the top he turned back toward the brink of the gulch.

"Grab hold of the rope." he said. She reached up and grabbed onto it. With both hands, working one over the other, Boq began lifting her out of the gulch. A few scattered sighs and groans came from Nessa, and Boq could only imagine that it was because she was only hanging on by her hands, and the rest of her body was therefore bumping against any part of the cliff with which it came into contact.

Once her brown head appeared at the top of the hill, Boq finished pulling her up then picked her up off the ground and placed her under a tree.

"Well," he said. "Now that's out of the way."

They still had their main objective before them, getting to Colwen Grounds.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Sort of a two-part fillery chapter, but it will all make sense in the second chapter)<strong>


	5. The Attack

**(AN: Gonna try and post a few new chapters for this story. [This one got overwritten. I hate those little mistakes].)**

**(Sorry if I revealed too much about what they felt, but I thought it essential. You will see how I compensate for that later on.)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Attack<strong>

Boq and Nessa woke up the next morning, after having slept under the tree by the gulch that night. Rays of golden light shone through the leaves of the Pine Barrens behind them to the east. Slowly, rubbing sleep out of their weary eyes, they got themselves together. Boq, unfortunately, discovered that they had both of their suitcases and only one person who could carry them.

_I guess I should be thankful_, he thought. _She could be Galinda, and then I'd have at least _eight_ suitcases and heavy luggage boxes to carry all on my own._

Using the ax and some of the rope left over, Boq lashed Nessa's suitcase to the back of her wheel-chair and tied his own to his back as if it were a back-pack. He then picked up Nessa, placed her in the chair and took off down the Yellow Brick Road.

The sooner they got to Colwen Grounds, the sooner he would leave.

* * *

><p>This part of the journey seemed the most pleasant, for now they could stroll along the Yellow Brick Road at their leisure, enjoying the sights and sounds of a bright, lively Pine Barrens forest. Boq tried his best to go as quickly as they could, hindered by the amount of luggage they had in their two suitcases.<p>

Nessa, on the other hand, was quite enjoying herself, whistling about and looking around with complete satisfaction, believing herself to be quite safe.

"What's that you're whistling?" Boq asked. "I know that tune."

"Maybe you do," she returned. "When the Road was built into our land, they had choirs singing that song when they presented the Road to father for his approval. It's rather cute, isn't it?"

"_Too_ cute." Boq stated. "It's like they thought we're a bunch of little kids with squeaky voices."

Nessa shook her head. Though she did not like Boq's cynicism with the tune, she had to agree - greater Oz did view _all_ the inhabitants of Munchkinland, tall or small, as the same.

They spent the next several minutes - or hours, they had no way of telling how much time had passed - in silence.

While they walked on, Boq pushing Nessarose down the Yellow Brick Road, the Munchkin-lad cast nervous glances to either side of the Road. The gentle sound of rustling through the low shrubs was unnerving. Were they being followed? And if they were, why wouldn't they just show themselves already rather than make them endure this torture?

Well, make _him_ endure this torture. Nessarose seemed quite oblivious to what was going on in the trees of the forest.

The sun passed overhead, rising up out of the trees, and no more spears of gold shone down upon them. Now it bore down upon them hotly from above. Unfortunately, they had no means to shade themselves and therefore suffered under the heat.

"Where are we?" Nessa asked after many hours of silence.

"Not sure." was Boq's answer. "I've never been through this part of Munchkinland, except through carriage when I went to Shiz."

Hours wore on, and soon they were both quite tired. Night was falling upon them, yet there was no sign of the end of the Pine Barrens. They could not stay here, that was for certain.

The noise of rustling was heard once again. Boq looked about nervously, knowing the rumors of what lived in the Pine Barrens. Without another thought, he increased their pace, pushing Nessa along faster than before. A look of thinly-veiled panic appeared upon Nessa's face.

"Boq, what's wrong?"

"We need to get going!" he stammered, not even pausing for a moment.

"Why?"

"There are things here!" he stated, looking nervously about on either side. "Bad things."

Nessa gulped. "What kind of things?"

"I've heard of many horrible things," Boq elaborated. "Lions, maybe. And Khalidahs, things that are part tiger and part bear."

"Oh my!" Nessa exclaimed.

The rustling grew louder. A low growl echoed from the trees. Nessa gave a cry of alarm.

Boq increased his pace, pushing Nessa's chair faster than before. Now they were both openly fearful, lest something happen. A louder roar sounded from the trees, now they could hear something moving.

"Look!" Nessa exclaimed. Turning his eyes away from their pursuers, Boq saw the lights of a village - or maybe just one cottage, a farm-house - in the distance. That lifted Boq's spirits: for surely a house, a lighted house, meant inhabitants. He increased his pace, trying to get there before...

The sound of heavy panting and the jarring clash of claws upon brick sounded behind their heads. Boq turned around and cried out in terror. Something was pursuing them. Pushing Nessa's chair away from him, away from the pursuing noise, he took out his ax and started waving it about wildly. Suddenly, it connected with something.

A loud roar was heard, and Boq suddenly was thrown back from where he had struck. Nessa cried out and called for 'help'.

_Why_, she thought. _Who knows if we're even close enough to civilization for anyone to hear us?_

Fear overcame her at last and she fainted, slumped head-down in her chair.

* * *

><p>Her eyes slowly slid open, and she found herself in a warm-looking, cozy room, with a fire in the hearth nearby. She sighed, thinking herself to be home at last. Everything would be better now...or maybe that creature had finally gotten to her...<p>

The new-comer proved to her that she was neither dead nor back in Colwen Grounds.

"Oh, you're awake." the old Munchkin-woman said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I think." Nessa returned. "Where's my chair? Where are my things?" She gasped suddenly, a fearful thought creeping up into her brain. "Where's Boq?"

"Who?" the old woman asked. "Ah, the young man who we found with you. He's fine, just a little banged up, but he's fine." She then pointed to one side of the room. "Your things are over there, along with your wheel-chair, darling." She took a seat by the fire and returned to her knitting. "Brave boy, that one. Taking on a full-grown Khalidah with nothing more than a woodman's ax!"

Nessa returned to her bed, wondering about this. Boq had risked his life...to save her? _Surely_, she thought, _he likes me_. For who would defend someone who they did not like...who they did not love...

It just _had_ to be because he loved her, it just _had_ to be. If not...

If not, well, she did not want to think about what _might_ be, just what was. The future was uncertain, holding nothing but dread...and loneliness. The present was much better, much nicer, much friendlier.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I hope you could stomach this chapter. It's to, hopefully, get our female lead a little more...amiable towards her unwilling ward. You may think that it was OOC for the little declaration of their true feelings so early on, but, as I said, the 'inference' and 'speculation' that is rampant throughout <em>Wicked<em> the musical is just not how real people work, and I view them as real people - I always view my characters as real people, and try to make them as real as possible [to some degree of success]. It will all be made fine in the end, I assure you. Just hold out until then.)**


	6. Last Words

**(AN: I still don't get the 'unelected official' bit from "The Wicked Witch of the East" scene. How does that make her unable to harbor a fugitive? Oh well, I will have to face that sooner or later, cuz we're coming closer to the end of this story.)**

**(Perhaps this story should be renamed _The Downfall of Boq and Nessa_. Not only does it entail what happens to them in-between acts, but it also tells how they become what they are in Act II. As such it will be harder to 'empathize' with Nessarose in this and subsequent chapters, since more of her 'sinister' side will be showing. Now read on)**

* * *

><p><strong>Last Words<strong>

The Munchkin farmer allowed Boq and Nessa to ride in his wagon to Colwen Grounds. He loaded their things, including Nessa's chair, into the back of his cart, hitched up the pony, and took off down the Yellow Brick Road. Behind them, the Pine Barrens receded into the distance as nothing more than a black spot upon the edge of a new day, the memory of a nightmare that vanished in the light of the dawn.

The rest of their journey went on without incident, and Nessa noticed that Boq's injuries were not as bad as she might have thought. His back-side was bruised when he hit the Road, and he had a gash on his arm, but it was only shallow. He was bandaged up and looked none the less for his injury.

* * *

><p>Colwen Grounds, the home of the governor of Munchkinland. Though it was not exactly the capital of Munchkinland - that was, decidedly, the town of Center Munch - it held much significance for the Thropp family. Their father, the ambitious governor, had taken on the surname of his wife, the late Melena Thropp. That was their custom, that the Thropp daughters pass the name of their family down to whomever they married: to many of the people of Munchkinland, the Thropp women were like Ozma in their own right.<p>

It had been a political move that brought Frexspar to marry Melena Thropp, but he grew to love her, in his own way. Though how that was shown, however, was not as apparent. Both of his daughters hadn't known Melena for that long - in Nessa's case, not at all. Their father had grown harder, more stern, and was never kind to anyone, save for Nessarose. She had noticed that, despite his outward show of strength, of resilience, of his outrage at Elphaba's behavior, inwardly, he was getting weaker. A lifetime of hatred, it seemed, was not the way to age gracefully or live longer.

If only Elphaba knew this - but surely she did, and still she defied him. There was no place for shame in Nessarose's heart anymore, only anger. How could she do this to her father, the one who had raised her and given her a roof to stay under?

That ungrateful little...

"We're here!" the Munchkin-farmer announced. Boq got the wheel-chair down off the cart and set it up. The suitcases he placed on either side, then he picked up Nessa and placed her in the chair. He sighed, brushing off the thoughts of that night when he stood up against the creature in the dark. It would all be worth it: the goal was in sight. Just a little way longer and he would be free of Nessa...forever, maybe.

They entered the dark, austere hall of the Thropp mansion, an ancient structure that had been the ancestral home of the Thropps since as far back as recorded history of Munchkinland. A diminutive servant approached them, a grim expression upon her face.

"Miss Nessarose," the servant said. "Where have you been? Your father has been expecting you for a long while."

"There was some trouble on the Road," Nessa answered. "How is my father?"

"He's been asking for you," the servant said. "Come, this way."

The servant walked toward a door that was surrounded by many other dignitaries from all corners of Munchkinland. Nessa turned to Boq and nodded: he sighed. _Do I really have to go all this way?_ But he pushed her in after the servant just the same.

* * *

><p>Beyond the doors, they entered into an antechamber filled with even more courtiers and attendants. The servant turned to Boq and held out her hand, telling him to stay there. She then reached up and pushed Nessa's chair into the inner chamber.<p>

Within, there was the great bed, surrounded by dozens of servants, mourners and what few friends Frexspar the governor had made: not true friends, just ones who would more or less profit from his downfall and therefore wanted to be privy to his last words, to see if he had some last blessing to place upon them. Lying in the bed was Frexspar Thropp, the governor. Nessa stifled a whimper: he looked weaker than she had ever seen him in her entire life.

"What happened?" she whispered to the family nurse, an old Goat whose hair was now graying with severe age.

"He was reading the paper," the old Goat said, holding the architect of Frexspar's illness wrapped up in her hooves. "Then suddenly collapsed. He then took ill and has gotten worse ever since."

Nessa took the paper out of the nurse-maid's hand. It was a copy of the one Boq had read on the carriage ride: Witch on the Loose. Her hands trembled as she made the final realization, with those four words at the end of the article...

Her unnatural green skin.

"Father," she threw the paper away and pushed her chair over to the side of his bed. The old man turned his head toward the young girl.

"N-Nessa?" he wheezed. "You're here..." He smiled. "I waited for you...they said...they said..." His hand, weak and feeble, lifted up and pointed to those around him. "That you wouldn't come...in time. But I knew..." His hand fell, and his other one moved up and brushed against Nessa's cheek. "You're my special girl: you'll never let...your father down."

She shivered as the icy touch of his old hand fell upon her skin.

"Please," she sighed. "Don't move, don't tire yourself."

"Nessa?" he breathed. "Come here, girl." He waved his hand feebly in her direction. "Come closer..." She leaned in, as much as she could, in her situation. The old hand rested on her shoulder and he pulled himself in toward her, pressing his cold, unshaven face close to her ear.

"It was Elphaba," he hissed. "I-I...I cannot bear the shame she has brought upon us...with her actions."

"Don't go, Father!" she sobbed. Tears were now flowing down her face.

"No, Nessa," Frex sighed. "No tears. No tears from my precious Nessarose. You're a big girl now...you-you can't let...me spoil that beautiful face of yours." He sighed, leaning back on his pillows.

A smile came to his face.

"You look so much like your mother," he said happily.

Her mother. Nessa had heard that spoken about her since she was a child. But who was her mother, and why did she have to leave her? Why did everyone, it seemed, have to leave her? Mother was dead, Elphaba as good as dead, and now her beloved father was going to leave her as well.

As if to add insult to injury, she knew that Boq was going to leave as well. But he loves me, she reasoned. No, she couldn't lie to herself now. The truth was that he had promised to go along with her to journey's end - which was what this had been. And now that their journey was done, he would leave her.

Everyone was leaving her. She felt so alone, so helpless, like the stone had been placed under her chair again, and she was thrown to the ground once more. But now nobody would be there to help her, nobody would be there to come to her rescue.

"Please, father!" she said, taking his old hands in hers and pressing them to her lips. Not even her kiss made them warm again. "Don't leave me here all alone!"

Silence. Only Frexspar's labored breathing filled the room, breaking Nessa's heart. It was like the ticking of the Clock of the Time Dragon, slowly counting down the last minutes of his life.

One last sigh, one last breath, and Frexspar Thropp fell asleep...forever.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: This is not the end of the story, not yet at least. I still have at least two more chapters. However, if I get enough feed-back, or people asking me to continue, I might go on to "The Wicked Witch of the East" or even beyond <em>that<em>, to show what happens to Nessa and Boq 'The Tin Man' after they separate. Just ask, and it will be given.)**

**(Also, I might have been a little less hard on Frexspar than most of you would like me to be. That is because, in the novel at least, I did not see him as being that bad, at least until he started dumping water on Elphaba. I also did not view his 'relationship' with Turtle-Heart as being a gay thing, because I don't think gay thoughts and see everything as filled with gay innuendos. Sorry if you do, but I don't. [no offense to gays, I don't hate them, that's just not the life for me].)**

**(This is still musical-verse, but I'm thinking about not doing the whole 'song-verse' thing, as I might do in my next story [which doesn't have a title yet, just a theme]. I'm not big on 'song-verse', but if you are, that's okay. I used tiny bits of references to book-verse things in order to give depth to our story, as I do with all of my _Wicked_ stories.)  
><strong>


	7. Martial Law

**(AN: Here is something that could be a good end to this story, but whether or not it ends is all up to you. As I said before, if you want me to go the distance and finish this story, say so in the reviews.)**

**(I'm definitely thinking of at least one more chapter, since I haven't really explained Nessa's abhorrence of being alone [or maybe I have? More than just 'this is so good' or 'I liked the inference from the musical' would be nice, please.])**

* * *

><p><strong>Martial Law<strong>

She was laying out upon the bed, sobbing quietly into the sheets. Just beneath those lay Frexspar Thropp, or what was left of him. She could not believe it, she was alone again. Forget all those toadies surrounding the bed, they never mattered. They just wanted something out of her father. But she was alone again, and Boq might be on his way out of Colwen Grounds as she was weeping.

_No,_ she thought. _I can't let him go! We deserve each other!_

"Madam Nessarose," one of the governor's aides said, tapping her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but, it seems to me, that you are now our governor."

It all came back to her. She, the Governor of Munchkinland? She was the 'Eminent Thropp', the next female of the Thropp line (her sister did not count, being a fugitive and everything). The people would have no complaint, even if she were not elected, as the position of governor had always been chosen.

She pushed herself off the body of her father, taking a seat back in her chair.

"It appears I am," she said, wiping her eyes dry. Now she had control, the power her father had...to do as she pleased and to make things right in her life.

_Maybe that had been the answer all along_, she thought. _Power..._

* * *

><p>Outside, Boq was getting impatient. He had gone as far as his promise had obliged him to go: he had fulfilled his duty. He would even dare to say that he went above and beyond his call of duty by protecting her from the creature. There would be nothing binding him to stay with her now, he could leave, return to Shiz, find some news of Galinda, and resume his romance with her.<p>

He looked at Nessa's suitcase, lying at his feet next to his own. They would surely find it, sooner or later. Looking here and there, making sure that he was not being watched, he picked up the suitcase and walked toward the exit of the mansion.

The town of Colwen Grounds was in chaos. Soldiers were running here and there, tall ones, wearing blue jackets: these were the Colwen Grounds police force, not the soldiers of the Wizard. They were moving the people, by force, it seemed, back into their homes. Some of the younger, bolder Munchkins were throwing rocks at the Governor's mansion.

"You there!" Boq said to a young Munchkin woman who was running past him. She skid to a halt and turned around. "What's happening?"

"Don't you know?" she returned. "The governor's issued a curfew! Get indoors, boy, before they find you!"

She took off, leaving Boq quite bewildered. What had happened? What had Nessarose told her father that made him want to cause a curfew, and so early in the day? Why did he have to get in the midst of this?

_I don't have to take this_, he thought. _I fulfilled my promise to Nessarose, I should be free to leave._ Taking his suitcase in both hands, he took off down the Yellow Brick Road, trying to find his way back to Shiz.

"You there! Halt!"

Two Munchkinlander constables ran up and seized Boq's arms, one on each side. Their captain approached him, scrutinizing him from beneath his graying eyebrows.

"And just where are you off to, Master Boq?" he asked.

"How do you know my name?" he whined.

"The governor has asked for you personally," he returned. He then looked at his subordinates. "Take him."

They dragged Boq back down the street to the one place he did not want to be, the one place that he would rather die than be in once again. The doors were thrown open and a scene of panicked chaos met Boq's eyes. People were running about, with guards shouting orders back and forth.

"What's going on?" Boq pleaded.

"The beginnings of a new order." the captain said. They did not slacken their pace as they dragged him back through the halls of the mansion. He was now in a dark room, tossed before what looked like a great throne. The guards backed out.

"Where am I?" he asked. "What's going to happen to me?"

The lights turned on, slowly but not overwhelmingly. He noticed an official-looking chair sitting on a dias. Upon that chair was the last person he had expected to see: it was not the Governor of Munchkinland, it was not the Wicked Witch, it was not even the Wizard...

It was Nessarose.

"Nessa?" he queried. "I...uh, is this some..." He sighed uneasily.

"As the new governor of Munchkinland," she announced, in a very formalistic tone. "I am enacting some new laws. The particulars of which you will no doubt discover later. Right now, I've called you before me personally."

"Uh, why...uh, I mean, Madam Governor?"

"I'm making you my servant." she said. "You will assist me in all things that I see fit."

"But, Madam Governor," he argued. "What about your promise?"

"Unfortunately," she said. "It seems that martial law has been issued throughout Munchkinland. You see, we need to know if the Witch is hiding in our land, and that is the only way to know for certain."

"You mean, I'm not free to leave Munchkinland?" Boq queried.

"For the time being," she said. "Please, Boq, try to understand: I'm Governor now and I need to look after my land. But we can still be friends, right?"

Boq suddenly felt an odd wave of revulsion towards Nessarose. How could she treat him like this? Issuing martial law to keep him from leaving was as good as breaking her promise to him. Even worse, now she had made him her servant.

Just then, two more servants appeared, wheeling in a high-backed wheel-chair that looked like a luxurious throne on wheels. The wood was covered with gold furnishings and the chair had large, red velvet cushions upon it.

"Madam," one of the Munchkin servants said. "Your chair is ready for you."

She nodded, dismissed the two servants, then turned to Boq.

"Your first duty as my servant, Boq," she said. "Is to carry me to my chair."

He could not refuse. He walked over to the throne, knelt down before her and said, with veiled disgust...

"As you wish, Madam." He then picked her up off the chair and carried her in his arms. She was glad to be back in his strong grasp, it made her feel safe. She noticed now that he was doing his best to look away from her.

He placed her in the chair, then stood erect, ready for new orders.

"Do you want anything else, Madam?" he asked in a tone of equal formality.

"Yes," Nessarose, the governor, said. "I want you to go to your new quarters here in the house. Your things have been brought up, and I will have my tailors make you a new uniform to wear."

_So now I will be wearing a uniform_, Boq thought,_ as if I were a soldier, pressed into service of this...insanity._

"Anything else, Madam?"

"Yes, Boq." she said, losing her formal, cold tone. "Please, call me 'Nessarose.' It would make me very happy if we still were on a first-name basis, just like old times, huh?"

"As you wish," Boq returned, halting, then said at last..."Madam."

He was gone before she could call him back.

Why was he so cold? She could detect that he'd rather be anywhere else than in her presence. Was it really because of the chair? That was something she just couldn't help. If Elphaba really were a witch, then perhaps...

_No_, she thought. She hated father, and brought this upon them. There could be no help from the green freak. Nessa was now faced with oblivion, the thought of being alone forever. She could not face it, for that would be death, to her, to live in loneliness, without a single friend, without love...void and empty. She was not meant for this.

_Boq will come around_, she thought. _I'll make him come around. I _have_ to!_

"We deserve each other," was all Nessarose said into the dark solitude of the meeting hall. That was all the justification she needed, for everything she had done, and what she was about to do.

She could not stop with just martial law. Eventually that would have to subside. She was an unelected official, and she had to at least pretend to appeal to the peoples' desires. She would need to pass new laws, ones that kept Munchkins in their homeland, that restricted their movement, anything.

As long as it kept Boq with her, and her away from oblivion.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I think I've said it enough for you to get the point: review, tell me if you want to continue, and are Nessarose's fears well explained?)<strong>


	8. In Memory of Father

**In Memory of Father**

Over the next three years, everything changed in Munchkinland. Those who were once friends of the old governor now became enemies of the new one, and were quickly ousted. Law after law was passed to restrict mobility, until all the Munchkins were more or less slaves, prisoners in their own land.

Nessarose Thropp wore black almost every day after her father's passing. For some it was the sign of mourning, for others…a sign of evil. As the Munchkins believed white to be the color of a good sorceress, so they believed black to be the sign of a witch. A _wicked_ witch, nonetheless. She didn't care; let them speak out against her. She became more and more reclusive, locking herself away at Colwen Grounds and never seeing much of anyone.

She rarely went out to Center Munch to visit her father's grave.

But then again, people in her condition really couldn't move around a lot.

In the mansion at Colwen Grounds, those servants who attended on her wore drab, steel-gray dress uniforms. No bright colors, nothing to remind her of the time before her rise to power. It was too painful, for her, at least.

* * *

><p>In her private chambers, usually kept very dark and dismal, the governor of Munchkinland sat in her wheel-chair, more like a small chariot, and a richly adorned one at that. Her maid-servants were attending on her: those were the only ones who could do <em>this<em> kind of intimate work. They dressed her, changed her clothes, and carried her into bed, even to the privy when the need arose. For now, at least, they were fitting a pair of stockings onto her legs. Drab and jarring stripes of black and white along them, but protocol demanded it.

Once they were on, she waved them away and rolled her chair over to her desk. Upon it was a little silver bell, which she rang. Moments later, a very annoyed Boq walked into the room.

"Your orders, Madam Governor?" he queried.

"Just Nessarose, Boq." She returned, trying to give him a warm smile. "Could you fetch the post for me, please?"

He sighed. "As you wish. Anything else?"

"Yes," she said. "There's something here in this box," she pointed to a box that sat down at the bottom of the floor, just out of reach. "Could you open it, please?"

"Your wish is my command, madam." He said sardonically. Walking over to the box, he opened it up and lifted it up to Nessa's gaze. The glimmer of something silver shone up from within the box. She looked away, trying not to show him that she was crying.

_No tears to spoil her pretty face_.

"Could you please put them on my feet, Boq?" she asked.

He sighed, then took the bejeweled slippers out of the box and placed the one upon her little foot.

"Boq," she said at last. "Could you also go to my desk and get me the first paper at the top?"

"But, madam, what about your shoes?" he queried.

"Yes, yes, that first."

He quickly put on the second slipper onto her feet. Glad to be away from her, even if only she was a back-turn away, he walked over to the table and picked up the paper. Out of curiosity, he began to read it.

"Don't read it, Boq." she stated. "Just give it to me."

"Right away, Madam Governor." He sighed frustratedly. He picked up a book, placed it under the document, and gave it to Nessa.

"Ink and pen, please?" she asked.

This was getting on his nerves. She could do these things, she did not need his help. Why was she putting him through this torture? It was not enough that she had made her presence odious to him by reason of forcing him to be her servant, and all the laws passed to restrict movement, but now she had to keep him by her side every second of every minute of every day?

He walked over to the desk, picked up the ink jar and the quill, and placed them on the arm of Nessa's chair. She dipped the tip of the quill in the ink and scribbled _N. Thropp, Supreme Governor of Munchkinland on the paper._

_Wicked Witch of the East would be more like it_, Boq thought.

"Make sure this is published where all can see it," she said, rolling up the document and handing it to Boq. "And, remember, the post."

He sighed. "As you wish, madam." He walked away before Nessarose could call out after him.

She was not stupid. She knew what the people were talking about her, the names they called her. It wasn't enough that their ruler had let them have freedom of speech, now they were slandering her with it. Well, she would make certain to take _that_ away from them as well. The document Boq carried would see to that. It would even keep him from speaking out against her, and against any decision she might make.

Nessa sobbed in loneliness, gripping the mirror that always sat in the seat of the chair, just next to her hip. Three years hadn't been that long of a time, she was still young, still beautiful. Even if the people of Munchkinland called her a no-good witch, just like..._her_...at least she wasn't green. At least she had father's love.

And the slippers. They meant everything to her now. Get rid of all gaity, of all color and brightness, for that reminded her of her youth, when she was foolish, weak. But do not get rid of the slippers. Not those...

_"Remember," he said to her. "I'm only sending you to this school for one reason..."_

_"I know, I know," she returned. "To look after Nessa." Such insolence in her voice, and so early on!_

_"My precious girl!" he fondly stated, his voice soothing as he knelt at her side, love beaming out at her from his old face. She was the youngest, the crippled one, but she was also the most loved one. "I have a parting gift for you." He brought a small box up from out of the confines of his robe, and her face lit up._

_A pair of silver slippers, bedazzling with the glass beads and shimmering jewels studded onto it, shone up from out of the box. She took one out and examined it. They were so beautiful!_

_"As befits the future governor of Munchkinland." he said warmly. A small kiss he planted on her cheek, and she smiled back._

It was a sign of his love, the only _true_ love she had ever known, she told herself. She could not be parted from the slippers, she would wear them all the days of her life, and when she was buried, they would be fitted on her cold, dead feet when they put her in the ground. The whole world would know that _this_ was the most beloved, the one that her father loved.

_No_, she said. _This much, at least. For you, father._

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: A little bit short, but <em>Blue-Eyes<em> insisted)**

**(Come to think of it, I might continue on this story. Whether here in this story, or in another, I'm still not sure yet.)**


	9. Wicked

**(AN: lol, the name of this chapter is the name of the musical. Well, of course, since it is what happens in that scene. A bit embellished for dramatic affect, but it's all good [and not influenced by _LeiaEmberblaze_'s "The Good Witch of the South." I thought I might have to borrow from her depiction, but I'm doing just fine on my own].)**

**(Hope you enjoy it!)**

* * *

><p><strong>Wicked<strong>

As her chief servant, Boq was allowed to read the mail of the governor of Munchkinland. The streets were empty, curfew must be in order. He nailed the new proclamation to a post outside the mansion, and then walked on down to the post office. The _Colwen Herald_ said that it was May the 15th. Several other letters from various people around Oz, including Center Munch's new mayor, nothing from his family. He sighed.

He was glad to be away from her, if only for a little. _That _witch! _What will it take to get it into her head that I don't love her?_ He was even gladder that _he_ was the one to reach the post-box first. If she sent one of her maids to get it, she would sift through the mail and most likely burn any letter addressed to him. He caught her doing it once, even though she denied it all-together.

An announcement from the Emerald City! This caught Boq's attention. He took the flyer out and read the notice.

_Rejoice, people of Oz! On the 17__th__ of this month the lovely sorceress Glinda the Good shall be engaged to the dashing Prince Fiyero Tiggular, also Captain of the Gale Force at a ball of grandiose proportions to be held here at the Emerald City._

A heavy weight dropped in Boq's stomach. He realized that he had wasted enough time here at Colwen Grounds when he _should_ have been courting Galinda…no, he knew the news. A few months after the appearance of the Wicked Witch, another such announcement had been made stating that a young sorceress from Gilikin by the name of Glinda had risen up to support the people and serve as an ambassador of goodness and goodwill. He knew her from the face on the post, it was Galinda. By whatever name she called herself now, it was still the same person.

The same person he loved.

He couldn't be much older than she was, but he had spent three years stuck here at Munchkinland. _Three_ of the best years of his life, three years that could have been spent with her. Three years he would never get back.

"I have to do something," he determined. _Unfortunately, I only have about two days to think of a plan_.

* * *

><p><em>May 17<em>_th__, in the twenty-fifth year of Our Glorious Wizard…_

The fateful day dawned like any other. The servants bathed and dressed the Governor on routine. Once she was fully clothed, clean and clad, she had her maids dress her hair – always tied back tightly in a bun. Once done, she rang the silver bell and called for Boq to make her tea and push her into her study.

She quietly finished her tea, placing the cup upon its saucer then both into Boq's hands. He was standing by, as obedient as ever.

As resentful as ever.

"Will there be anything else, madam?" he asked dryly.

"I've asked you to call me _Nessarose_, remember?" she added with a hopeful smile.

"Yes, _madam_." He turned and left the study before she could reprimand him. He was already on his way out the door.

"Boq!" she called out after him. He did not answer.

Alone she was again. Solitude was death. She reached for her mirror and looked at it, her sorrowful reflection staring back at her from what looked like tears. Was _this_ what the rest of her life was doomed to be? Living with a resentful servant who should have loved her, with her only true companion being her reflection?

"Well," a soft voice sneered. "It seems the beautiful get _more_ beautiful…"

She turned around and cried out in shock. The two-way mirrors of her wardrobe shone a harsh, venomous visage glaring back at her from within its depths.

"While the green," the voice stated. "Just get…_greener_."

The door opened from within, and Nessarose saw not the Wicked Witch of the West. She had seen plenty of the sketches of her from the news reports from the Emerald City. She was painted in the absolute worst light: red eyes that jumped out at you and sucked your soul out, nay, but _one_ eye of such, the other a piercing telescope that could see all things. Her green skin augmented with warts and leprous growth. Her figure thin and pinched, hunched over like some monster ready to attack.

She looked harsh, but mostly because of her clothes. The heavy dress she wore, rather for protection or warmth, was heavily frayed and torn, with patches of various different shades of black or very dark reds, blues and violets keeping the breaches at bay. A thick black shawl was wrapped around the shoulders. A tall-peaked hat there was, just as had been reported. And a broom as well, which she rested against the wardrobe as she exited its depths. Hunched she was, maybe, but still quite tall for a woman of twenty-five: and thin, well, starvation was to be expected of a fugitive. The face was not the face of a monster; no, it was the face of something much worse.

It was the face of Elphaba.

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?" was she mocking her. "I seem to have that affect on people." She was speaking to someone other than her: maybe to herself? Perhaps the rumors that she had gone mad _were_ true.

Then she turned back to her, brown eyes almost swimming with tears of joy.

"It's so good to see you, Nessa." She said.

Nessarose did not look at the eyes: much easier to hate her if she did not have to look at her damn eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she bit back venomously.

"Well," the green woman said, crossing her arms and reverting to her usual, dry wit. "There's no place like home."

Nessarose did not like this.

The green woman sighed. "I…damn! I never thought I'd hear myself say this," She turned back to her sister. "But I need father's help. I need him to stand beside me."

"So?" Nessarose returned haughtily. "Three years of running and _now_ you want asylum? Well, I'm sorry, but that's impossible."

"No, it isn't!" She was on her knees, at the side of Nessa's chair. Was big, strong Elphaba _really_ begging at her little, weak, crippled sister's feet? "Not if _you_ ask him. He'll do it for you, Nessa. You know he will!"

"Father is dead!" she said at last. It still hurt to say those words.

Apparently, the green monster didn't know this. She took a step back, a look of surprise on her face.

"What?"

"I said he's dead!" Nessa shouted, wheeling the chair around so that she would not have to look the green freak in the eyes. "_I'm_ the governor now."

In the quiet that followed, Nessarose thought her ears were betraying her. She heard sniffling, but knew that it was not coming from her. She had cried enough tears over the last three years, and the time for tears was past.

Was _she_ really crying? She turned her chair back around to look at her prodigal sister, but the shadows of her hat obscured the face.

"Well," she angrily asked. "What did you expect? After he learned what _you've_ done…how you disgraced us, he died of _shame_! Embarrassed to death!" She looked away.

The next words that came out of Elphaba's mouth, even _she_ never expected. Not even from her.

"Good, I'm glad. It's better that way."

She turned her chair around, practically seething with anger at her sister's…callousness.

"That's a _wicked_ thing to say!"

"No, it's just the truth." She said, throwing herself back at her sister's knees. "Because now…now, it's just us. You can help me! You can give me asylum and then together, we can…"

"Shut up, Elphaba!" Nessarose shouted. This green monster had gone on far enough. How dare she say what she just said, and then expect _her_ to give her asylum?

"Why should I help you?" she sneered. "You fly around Oz, trying to rescue Animals you've never even met," She held up her hand. "I know what you've been doing, and not _once_, in three years, did you _ever_ think to use your powers to rescue _me_!" She wheeled her chair forward, angry at her sister.

_All of my life, I've depended on you  
><em>_How do you think that feels?  
><em>_All of my life, depended on _you  
><em>And this hideous chair with wheels!<em>

_Scrounging for scraps of pity to pick up  
><em>_And longing to kick up…my heels_.

"W-What are you saying?" Elphaba asked, as her sister turned the back of her chair on her sister. "Nessa, please, listen to me! Not even _I_ know everything about this book!" She held up a spell-book from the satchel at her side. "There isn't a spell for _everything_, you know!"

"Excuses!" she shouted.

"Please, you know what it was like with my own power!" she continued. "It-It's mysterious; sometimes it's not even _there!_"

"Then what good _are_ you?"

"It's harder than you think!" she was getting practically frantic. "I mean, maybe I _could_ find something, but it will take time, _lots_ of time! It's not like conjuring up a pair of…" She looked down at the dazzling shoes, mocking her for the love her father showed to Nessarose and not to her.

She knew, better than they knew, the doctor's reports. Her legs were healthy, but had no life in them, no strength of their own.

But perhaps…

She knelt down, throwing the violet-paged book open and looking for anything of tangible, readable silver letters that materialized on the pages before her.

At last, something…

_Ambulahn Dare Pahto Pahpoot Ambulahn Dasca Caldapess  
>Lahfenahto Lahfenahtum Pede Pede Caldapess<em>

"What is that?" Nessarose asked suspiciously. "What does that mean?" But the green abnormality kept chanting, her hands dancing in the air over the violet-colored pages.

Suddenly, a bright flash of red exploded from her shoes, sudden heat was rushing up Nessarose's legs. Every nerve in her once dead legs was now tingling with life. It was all too much sensation for her, it hurt something fierce.

"Ow!" she cried out. "My shoes! Ahh! It's…it's like they're on fire! What have you done with my shoes?"

Suddenly she was lifted up off her chair, was she moving? But her legs were weak, inexperienced, like a child's legs the first time it learns to walk. She hit the floor hard. Her legs, which never used to feel anything, hurt when she fell. A green hand reached up at her from out of the darkness of the study.

"No!" she swatted it away. "Don't help me!"

She looked down at her feet. Whatever fiery spell the green thing had cast had turned them a bright and shining shade of crimson: the color of rubies. Nessa grabbed one of her legs and moved it aside, both of them lying in front of her while she sat on the floor on her rear. She picked one leg up, wincing as the new feeling of life and old memories of pain were rushing through the veins in her leg. It held firm, she was now kneeling on one leg. She put her weight on that leg, hoping it wouldn't collapse, then tried to move the other one.

It moved! She was now kneeling down, both legs stable on the hardwood floor. Slowly, with trembling hands, she gave herself a push. The floor shot down from her eyes, she looked down and saw her legs, both of them erect and stable, down beneath her. She was crying openly. It felt so good, at last, to be moving. The pain in her legs subsided, replaced with the normal feeling that she had with the rest of her body.

"Oh, Nessa!" a voice gasped from the darkness. "At last!"

_I've done what, long ago, I should  
>And finally, from these powers, something good<br>Finally! Something good..._

The figure in black appeared out of the darkness, green hands extended in what might be a kind of hug. But Nessarose did not want to be hugged, didn't want to be coddled anymore. She had her legs. Surely now...

"Boq!" she placed one foot in front of the other carefully, and found that she could walk. She stumbled the rest of the way to her desk, grasping onto the silver bell. She rang it once. "Boq, come here! Come here at once!" She pushed herself off from the desk and waddled back over to her chair.

"No!" the green figure said. "Please! Nobody can know I'm here!"

But it was too late.

* * *

><p>Once he had been dismissed, Boq went to his room to formulate a plan. He had to leave, he just <em>had<em> to. There would be no more excuses, nothing to stop him now. Let her live in solitude, trapped in that chair. She can be somebody else's problem.

So deep he was that he did not hear the noises coming from her room.

Until the bell rang.

The slave bell. He felt like nothing but a slave as he walked back towards the study, ready to answer the governor's every beck-and-call.

"Yes, what is it, Madam Governor?" he sighed in annoyance as he pushed open the door into the study.

There she was! Standing there in broad daylight (at least, _outside_ it was broad daylight). She looked just as menacing as the papers had said she had been, just as unnatural as he had known her.

"You!" he shouted. She moved towards him. He jumped at the desk, and picked up a letter opener, brandishing it as a knife. "No! Stay back!"

"Boq," the freak said. "It's just me! It's Elphaba! I'm not going to hurt you!"

"You're lying!" he shouted. Something was rising up in him, the same something that caused that outburst at the Train Station three years ago. "That's all you ever do, you and your sister!" He kept the letter opener pointed at the green one. "She promised that I'd be free to go back to Shiz once I took her home that day at the Train Station. But she didn't! She doesn't keep her promises, she's as wicked as _you_ are!"

"Boq, what are you talking about?" the other one asked. She was sitting in her chair. What in Oz's name was on her feet? They were silver the last time he looked.

But Boq noticed that he had just defied her latest decree. It didn't matter now, might as well say the truth. He would be leaving Colwen Grounds one way or another after today: whether on his own to find Glinda, or in a body-bag.

"I'm talking about _my_ life!" he whined. "What little's left of it." He turned to the green witch. "I'm not free to leave Munchkinland. None of us are!" He pointed the letter opener at the invald. "Ever since _she_ took power, she's been stripping the Munchkins of our rights!" His voice quivered. "And we didn't have that many to begin with!" The letter opener went back to the green one.

"And do you know why?"

"To keep you here with me, Boq!" the invalid said. She didn't sound angry, didn't sound harsh. In fact, all things considered, she sounded practically jubiliant. "But none of that matters anymore! Look at this!"

* * *

><p>Practice makes perfect, even for those who have never walked before. It was much easier to stand now after she had practiced before. All she needed to do was push herself up out of her chair, stand straight, and her legs did the rest. She was now standing up, swaying just a little from the unfamiliarity of walking, but she was stable.<p>

The silence of the room was broken by the clatter of the letter opener falling to the floor.

"Y-You mean she can walk?" he asked, turning to the green woman: her sister._ Her_ sister. "You did this for her?"

"Not just for me," Nessarose beamed. "For _both_ of us!"

Her heart leaped as she turned to Boq. He was smiling, practically shaking with giddy anticipation. She also felt warm inside: she had finally gotten everything she wanted. They would at last be happy.

"Oh, Nessa." he exclaimed, laughing slightly. "This changes _everything_!"

"I know!" She smiled. He walked up to her, a look of earnesty in his eyes. He placed her small hands in his own, and she felt warm, safe and secure. At last, she had everything she wanted.

"Nessa?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Oh Nessa!"

_Surely now I'll matter less  
>To you, and you won't mind<br>My leaving here tonight?_

"Leaving?" She couldn't believe her ears. She could walk, she was perfect now, they could finally be together...and he wanted to _leave_?

"Yes!" he continued.

_That ball that's being staged  
>Announcing Glinda is engaged<br>To Fiyero_

"G-Glinda?" she sobbed, pushing her way out of his grasp. It was all coming down about her ears. For four years, ever since they danced at the OzDust Ballroom, she had convinced herself that he was the perfect one. Everything he had said to the contrary she had excused as being nothing more than just an idle infatuation, one that she could conquer.

"Yes, Nessa, that's right." he said.

_And I've got to go appeal to her  
>Express the way I feel to her<em>

What he so uncaring that he didn't care what _she_ felt? She was sobbing, her hands shaking as she gripped the edge of her desk. She didn't even care that the green thing was touching her again, trying to comfort her. This was all too much. He _didn't_ love her? All the memories came back. She should have seen it from the start, he never loved her. She was only fooling herself by believing that he had loved her.

But _she_ had loved him. That was for _real_. The feelings he may have given out in falsehood were an actuality with her. She loved him, she _still _loved him. That night at the OzDust, when he saw Galinda on the other side of the room, but chose _her_ - Nessarose - instead, that meant something to her.

"Oh, Nessa," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. "You know I lost my heart to Glinda from the moment I first saw her. I told you that!"

Apparently it meant nothing to him.

"Lost your heart?" she mocked icily. If _he_ could be callous, she would repay him in kind.

_Well, we'll see about that_

"Nessa, please!" the green thing at her side begged as she turned to face Boq. "Let him go!"

_Did you think I'd let you leave me here flat?_

The sympathy in the young Boq's eyes was replaced by fear. He reached down and picked up the letter opener again, pointing it at _her_ now.

"Stay back, you! Don't come any closer!"

_You're going to lose your heart to _me! _I tell you!  
>If I have to...I <em>have _to..._

But what could _she_ do? How could she _force_ Boq to love her? She had already taken away his freedom, taken away his right to speak out against her, but he had violated those so easily. There had to be something else, some other way...

She saw the violet-paged book gleaming up innocuously from the floor, quite neglected by them or the green witch.

_How hard could it be_, Nessa wondered.

She threw herself onto the floor, ignoring the screaming pain in her knees. She looked at the violet page, her eyes mesmerized briefly by the dazzling bright lights and swirling silver letters. One appeared, and she spoke it aloud..._Ah Tum_. Then another..._Core_.

"No, Nessa, stop!" Elphaba shouted, throwing herself down at Nessa's side and trying to pry her away from the treasured spell-book. "That's dangerous!"

"W-What is she doing?" Boq queried suspiciously, taking a step over to see what they were doing.

Nessa, meanwhile, saw the words scramble before her very eyes. Nothing was coming in clear anymore. Out of fear, she said the first two words again, but in a different order. _Tum Ah_.

"Nessa, you're saying it all wrong!" Elphaba shouted. She tried to push Nessa out of the way, but the little brunette swatted her older sister away quite easily.

"Don't try to stop me, you!" Boq said, pointing the letter opener at her. "Or I'll..."

_Tum Tah Tayk- _But the spell was suddenly cut off by a loud cry of shock, and of agony.

"Nessa, no!" the green woman shouted, successfully pulling her sister away from the book. She looked up at the poor Munchkin, who was now on his knees, clutching at his chest.

"Boq, what is it?" she asked fearfully.

"My...heart!" he cried, gasping, straining against something that seemed to be tearing him up from the inside out. "It...argh! Feels like it's...ow! Shrinking!"

Almost immediately, she closed the book up and threw it into the green woman's arms.

"Elphaba, do something!" she shouted in one breath.

"I can't!" the green woman said, running over to Boq's side and, despite his weak attempts to swat her away, brought him into her old chair. "You can't reverse a spell once it's been cast!"

"Then what good _are_ you?" she shouted again, now swaying on her feet as the dark figure pushed the chair back behind the wardrobe. Nessarose was nigh hysterical.

"This is all _your_ fault! If you hadn't shown me that horrendible book..."

She emerged again, a look of profound frustration on her face.

"Shut up!" she shouted. Nessa balked as if hit, her sister's words as sharp as daggers. She took a step back, but the green thing took a step forward. "Just please, give me some time. I've got to find another spell. It's the only thing that _might_ work." She turned around vanished into the darkness of the behind the wardrobe, chanting so softly that she could not hear what was being said.

Nessa was once again alone. If ever she supported Elphaba in her entire life, it was now. She had to succeed, she just _had_ to! Boq had risked his life to save her from the Khalidahs in the Pine Barrens, and now _she_ had put him in risk of dying. The green thing had to save her, she just _had_ to.

_Save him, _please, _just save him  
>My poor Boq, my sweet, my brave him<br>Don't leave me till my sorry life has ceased_

_Alone and loveless here  
>With just the girl in the mirror<br>Just her and me...**the Wicked Witch of the East!**_

_We deserve each other_.

That was all she had said for the past four years. That was all the excuse she needed, for all the things she had done...even to the establishment of her tyranny, the taking away of Boq's heart, and the risking of his own life.

The slow, dull tap of boots upon the creaking floors turned her back towards the wardrobe. The green thing appeared, the book in her hands. Boq was not behind her.

"He's asleep." she whispered.

"And...and his heart?" Nessa asked.

"Don't worry," the green woman said, her voice grim and her face blank. "He won't _need_ one anymore."

What did _that_ mean, he wouldn't need one anymore? What had she done? Why couldn't she see Boq now and get her anxiety over with?

The green thing then brought the book up and stowed it away in her bag.

"Wait, where are you going?" she asked.

"To the Emerald City," her green sister answered. "There...there were these monkeys, the Wizard tricked me into magicking them, but it's still my fault for doing it. I have to set them free..."

"Elphaba," she said. Just listen to her dry, mirthless tone. She almost sounded like her sister. "You're not going back there to save some monkeys, you're going to find Fiyero." She looked away, in sorrow. "But it's too late."

She turned to leave. Suddenly Nessarose felt alone again. It can't be! She was losing everyone! First mother, then father, maybe even Boq...and now Elphaba? She appeared to hate her, but deep down inside, she actually _loved_ this odd green thing.

"Elphaba, please!" she wept, running over and grabbing onto her cloak. "Don't leave me, please!"

She turned around, taking her sister in her arms. She noticed something in her elder sister's eyes, something she had tried to believe, as her father had told her for so many years, had never existed. Here was undeniable proof that it indeed _did_ exist in her heart, in her eyes, in her soul...

_Sorrow_

"Nessa," Elphaba said, her voice quivering. "I've done everything I could to help you." She sighed, her head tilting down, obscuring her face beneath the wide-brim of her hat. "And it's not enough. It hasn't been enough." She pushed herself out of the embrace, turning away.

"Nothing ever will be."

"Elphaba, wait!" the younger sister called out. She reached out, but only grabbed the end of her shawl, tearing it off her shoulders as she was now running. "**Elphaba!**"

But she was gone.

The silence was broken by a soft groan. Her heart leaped. She knew that voice. With quivering feet, she walked over to her wardrobe. It was dark enough that she could see at least a bit of her own reflection. She wiped the tears out of her eyes and tried to make herself look as best as possible.

"Wh-Where am I?" Boq asked. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing!" she was so relieved to hear his voice, her voice was breaking with joy. "You just...fell asleep."

Her ears rang with the grinding of metal against metal. It was jarring, and it sent the hairs on her back standing up on end. A heavy _thud_ echoed on the wooden floor, then another. Something was coming out from behind the wardrobe. Nessarose sprang back, crying out in shock. A thing of silvery-gray metal appeared.

That thing was wearing the silver-gray uniform that Boq was last seen wearing.

"What is it?" the voice of Boq asked, but the lips of the metal thing moved. She was on the verge of tears. Did he know? "What's wrong?"

It was all so frightening. This metal thing could surely crush her to death with as little ease as she herself could crush a piece of paper. And it was Boq.

"It wasn't me!" she whined. It was partially true, right? "It was Elphaba, Boq!" He looked down at himself and cried out in shock. "I tried to stop her, but she..." He cried out again, stepping back in fear. "No, Boq, please! I still love you!" He was stumbling towards the door, the sound of metal against metal banging in her ears. "Boq, come back! Don't leave me all alone!" she wailed. But he was gone.

"**_BOQ!_**"

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Well, what do you know? I think I'll go on and do the rest of the story.)<strong>

**(I usually shy away from writing _Wicked_ stories in song-verse, but this is just too good to pass up, since I love this scene. As with _A Stumble in the Dark_ and _A Musician's Fan-Fiction_, I've explicitly left out the part about the Grimmerie being written in 'a long language of spells.' That is because it always annoyed me that, if it was in said 'lost language', and Madam Morrible could only read a little through practice and Elphaba, being half-human, could read even more of it [even though it was _supposed_ to be from Earth and not from Oz, as it most likely is in the musical], how could Nessa, being fully Ozian, be able to read enough of it to make at least a botched-spell? If it's in a "lost language", then she should not have been able to read it.)**

**(The inspiration for this scene came from a lot of different Nessarose actresses. I've not found a single one I don't like, even Michelle Federer Butz has some great moments [in the videos and the recording]. However, when I saw _Wicked_ on October 30th, I distinctly remembered Dee Dee Magno Hall cry out "Boq!" rather than "It was Elphaba!" as all the others have done. That was something that stuck out for me from that scene that I always remember, and therefore I included it in this story. If you prefer the other, you can view it in your mind as such.)**

******(The rest, from here, will be pretty much of my own imagining, but I have _some_ loose ends to be tied up, which you shall soon see.)**_  
><em>


	10. The Storm

**(AN:/)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Storm<br>**

The Tin-Man stumbled through the hall clumsily, eager to get away from the woman he hated more than anything else. He made much noise, breaking and shattering things in his way, being unfamiliar with his new, metallic body. The servants who saw him screamed and ran from him in fright. He broke into his room, feeling around with smooth, metal fingers with almost no grip. In his fury, he shattered a chest and brought his bed crumbling down. The prized ax lay just in his grasp.

When Nessa finally found her way through the chaos, she found his room in shambles, a huge man-shaped hole in the side of the wall and Boq...or whatever was left of him, gone beyond recall.

"Boq, please!" she sobbed. "No, come back!" She stumbled on broken wood and fell to the ground. She was back on the ground, as she had been before. There would be no one to pick her up now, no hand to save her. She was alone at last, little better than dead.

"I want to go home!" she cried uselessly, her feet flailing behind her, the shoes clacking against each other.

* * *

><p>He found that he could run farther than he used to, and never tire. He would never tire ever again, for his metal joints did not grow weary as he had once done. He would not be hurt by the same means as he could have been hurt before.<p>

He could not love the same way he did before.

He collapsed, falling to his knees. Not out of exhaustion, but shock. He realized that he could never love Glinda, now that the Witch had removed his heart. Which witch? They were so alike, he saw, that it didn't matter. East or west, they were both evil witches who deprived him of his heart.

Could he even weep if he had no heart to be broken?

"Havin' a bad day there, shiny?" a voice asked.

He turned around and saw an old Munchkin smith sitting on a log, a long-handled pipe in his hand. He didn't care; let the little man make jokes. He had no heart that could be hurt by insults.

"Hey, you might want to take this with you," the smith said, handing Boq a small, cylindrical can that seemed to be the same color of his own suit, with a tiny spot at one end. "In case you get wet, spray some of that on your joints and you'll be right as rain in no time! Oh wait, maybe that wouldn't be right for you, then."

Boq ran on, clipping the item to his belt. It seemed rather silly to be holding it on his person, but it didn't matter. He still had his main objective...

Get to the Emerald City!

* * *

><p>When Nessarose Thropp awoke again, she found herself lying in her bed. For a moment she thought it was all a dream, that Elphaba really hadn't been there, that Boq would show up, just as annoyed as ever, once she rang the little silver bell. Looking around, she saw herself lying on top of the covers, the shoes glowing red at her feet.<p>

No, it had been real, all of it, even the painful parts.

_But how did I get back here_, she wondered.

She remembered her heels clashing about as she writhed in agony on the floor. No, it couldn't be, could it?

Rising to her feet, Nessa stood up and inhaled sharply. She put her shoes together, thinking she looked rather silly. But it was worth a try.

"I want to go...to Shiz!"

She clicked her heels together once. A shower of red sparks shot from where they met, but nothing else. She clicked them again, and the sparks exploded again, even more and bigger. Once more, and she was suddenly engulfed in a flash of red light.

When the light disappeared, she found herself in the main hall of Shiz, where her sister had made her 'demonstration' in front of half of the school, including Madam Morrible. It had been such an embarrassment. But what had that one incident caused? She remembered how Madam Morrible had suddenly taken an interest in her after that incident. How she had failed with her magic, she felt.

So many memories, some happy and some of them sad, filled her as she sat about in this room.

How did she get here? She looked down at the shoes, realizing just what Elphaba had done. Not only had these shoes enabled her to walk, she could also teleport herself wherever she chose to be.

_Maybe her magic wasn't _such_ a failure_, she admitted.

She put her feet together.

"Take me to Boq!"

Once, twice and now three times she was spinning off and away again. Now she was in a wood, somewhere in Munchkinland. The jarring sound of metal grinding against metal could be heard, as well as a voice crying out in frustration, in anger. With fear, she crept forward, peeking through the branches of the trees. In a clearing just a few short feet away from the Yellow Brick Road there was a woodsman's hut. Outside that hut she found her metal-clad lover, venting his frustration out on a nearby tree. He didn't seem to be tiring, for he did not take a break even once.

Her blood ran cold. He was spouting out curses at everyone - Elphaba, Galinda, Fiyero, the Wizard...

Nessarose.

"I want to go to my father's grave." she whispered, clicking her heels silently.

* * *

><p>The sound of rushing wind could be heard just to his left. He did not care, he was too far gone to care anymore. He was angry at the world: angry at Elphaba for not stopping her sister, angry at her for turning him into this metallic nightmare. Angry at Glinda for treating him like a slave - he realized that now, she never really loved him. Angry at Fiyero for taking the woman he loved from him. Angry at Nessarose for actually making him a slave.<p>

Angry at himself for chasing away the only woman who ever loved him.

He would never tire, and there seemed to be enough trees around here. He kept hacking at the stump before him, dark thoughts flowing through his head.

He did not notice the sun vanishing behind the unnaturally fast-moving clouds. He never noticed it, not until the sound of water droplets hitting what sounded like a metal roof rang in his ears.

Not until it was too late.

A storm was coming. He felt like something was growing in between his knees, his elbows, his hips, his hands, his neck, even his face. Casting one quick look, he saw that he had left that damned can the smith had given him on a stump he had recently destroyed. Just out of reach. He turned his head, feeling the grinding of rusty joints along what had once been his neck.

He could no longer move. His eyes stared endlessly at everything directly in front of him. All the world continued to roar about him, the sound of heavy wind, the rush of the rain, but his world had come to a halt. He was left alone with nothing more than his pain, his regret...

* * *

><p>Center Munch.<p>

When Nessarose finally arrived there, it was getting on towards evening. The sun vanished through the clouds far to the west. But she did not care, she had to visit the grave. She was alone at last, and tears were streaming freely down her face. She didn't care if people saw her: let the Munchkins see the Wicked Witch of the East at her lowest point. They would surely laugh and throw bricks at her, but she didn't care. They were rebels, caring only about themselves.

At the tiny bit of lawn at the head of the Yellow Brick Road, she threw herself down. The tiny, unadorned grave was all that was left of Frexspar Thropp. She knelt down at the side of the grave, threw herself upon the grass, three years old, and wept.

There was nobody left for her now. No mirror, so not even her reflection was there to mock her, to show her every fault and everything she had failed to do.

Night had fallen.

The roar of the wind sounded in her ears. She didn't care. Here she was not alone. This was Frex's final resting place, the last tie she had to her family. Her worst fears were coming true: she had chased away everything she ever loved and lost the rest. Yes, she admitted at last: _I_ chased Boq away. I never let him live as he wanted to, I tried to force his love, and only got his hatred in return.

And so, lying upon her father's grave, alone and forsaken in the face of the coming storm, the most beloved now the unloved one, Nessarose Thropp wept. No one would mourn her passing, she knew, when she would die. The people of Munchkinland had suffered under her attempts to keep Boq at her side, they would certainly hold a parade to _celebrate_ her death. Elphaba was miles away, doing whatever she had gone to the Emerald City to do, free the monkeys? Find Fiyero? Which ever, she was far gone to be of any help now.

No one mourns the wicked. Only she mourned herself, for, in the end, she was alone...little better than dead.

The wind grew louder and louder, yet Nessarose was in a place all of her own, totally oblivious to the world.

"Elphaba..." she sobbed into the earth. It was foolish, to think that her sister, on the other end of Oz, could hear her. But she sobbed her sister's name just the same. "Elphaba, I'm so sorry..." Here, lying on the grave of her father, she realized the truth. She had admired her father like nothing else, yet he refused to love Elphaba, and when he died, he was un-mourned by her.

Her voice was drowned out at last by the roaring of the wind. Pushing herself up off the grave and into a sitting position, she looked up. The wind shattered her bun, and for the first time in three years, her reddish-brown hair was blowing freely in the gales. Rain and tiny pellets of hail rained down upon her, and the sound of the people of Munchkinland running for cover were just faintly heard.

A shadow appeared in the darkness. Nessarose didn't even move. Elphaba wouldn't forgive her for all that she had done to her over their lives: she would be right in doing so, Nessa said. I deserve nothing from her but her hatred. The one person she had loved in her whole life now hated her and wanted her dead. The life she faced was one fraught with loneliness, which she could never endure.

And so she, the unwitting victim of a plot by her former Head _Shiz_-tress, stood there resolute, gazing up at the shadow that was slowly getting larger and larger.

Suddenly, her whole world was pain. She was covered in darkness, but she could not breathe, could not move anything, save her legs: ironic, that they hadn't moved in her entire life, yet they would be the last things to move. She gasped for air, but the crushing weight of the shadow forced her from drawing breath.

_A painful end is what I deserve_, she thought as her mind started going numb. _After all the pain I've..._

The pain was gone, and the shadow engulfed her world.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Not done yet, I think I've got two more chapters in me for this story.)<strong>

**(Thoughts, concerns, questions?)**


	11. Heartless

**(AN: New chapter, as promised. I'm going a bit into _The Wizard of Oz_ territory here, explaining several key events from the movie [and the book] through the eyes of Boq. Furthermore, though this will probably be song-verse _Wicked_, it will not be song-verse _The Wizard of Oz_.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Heartless<strong>

How long had Boq remained frozen in place? A day, maybe two? He lost all sense of time, standing there on his own, his eyes sealed open and eternally gazing. A fitting end or an unfair twister of fate? He didn't care anymore. Vengeance was all that burned within his being, even though he had no heart to feel said vengeance.

After what seemed like an eternity, he saw two of the strangest figures walking down the Road towards him: a little girl and a walking scarecrow. They seemed to be running afoul of the trees nearby. He had seen those when he ran this way, blind to everything except the anger inside. But he had an ax and therefore they stayed back and did not touch him. These two unfortunate fools, however, were receiving quite the struggle from the curmudgeonly trees.

Suddenly the little girl was at his knees, banging against his body. He did not feel it, but it was quite bothersome. But wait, bothersome-ness be damned: she could help him, if he were able to make enough noise.

Success! She and the scarecrow were able to oil up his mouth and limbs, now he was free from being trapped in place.

"How did you end up this way?" the little girl asked. If only she hadn't.

"Well..." Boq began, trying to think of something on the spot. He wasn't exactly good with thinking. "I remember that I was chopping that tree," He pointed to the heavily damaged stump that had been the object of the venting of his rage. "When suddenly it began to rain. And right in the middle of a chop, I...I rusted solid. I've been that way ever since."

"Oh dear!" the little girl said as she began applying more and more oil to the tin thing. She was not revolted by his presence, it seemed, like the Munchkins had been. This made Boq happy - if he had a heart that could be happy.

"Well," she said. "You're perfect now."

"Huh, perfect?" he mocked. "Hardly. You see, I'm quite empty inside."

"Really?" the girl asked.

"How so?" the strange scarecrow asked.

"Well," Boq began, elaborating. "If you will let me, I'll tell you my story, and maybe you'll understand."

"We're listening," the little girl said, plopping down upon one of the many stumps around him.

"Once upon a time," Boq began. "I was in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. I purposed to marry her, you know. But the Wicked Witch enchanted my ax to come after me and chop me to pieces."

"Oh my!" the little girl squealed.

_I can't believe they're buying this_, Boq thought. _Maybe they can help me find the Wicked Witch and kill her for turning me into this monstrosity_.

"Fortunately," he continued, elaborating on his story. "There was a kindly tin-smith who made me this body of metal each time my ax cut a part of my body off, until I was completely made of tin. But he forgot to give me a heart."

"No heart?" the two asked in unison.

"No heart," Boq sighed. He lifted his fist and struck his chest with a loud _gonk_. "See? All hollow."

"Well, that's just terrible," the little girl said earnestly. "That the Wicked 'ol Witch made this happen to you."

"Yes, it is." he returned.

"I know!" she suddenly stated. "Maybe you could come with us to the Emerald City."

"Oh?" he asked.

"Yes!" she nodded. "You see, me and the Scarecrow here are going there to see the Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself, to get him a brain and to find me a way back home. I'm sure if you asked, he'd give you a heart."

He had heard the legends of the Wizard of Oz. Had that been the answer all along? But there was always a dark-side to every silver-lined cloud, as he learned the hard way before.

"Well," he said. "Supposing we get there and the Wizard doesn't give me a heart?"

"Oh, but he must, he'll just have to!" the little girl whined. "We've come all a very long way."

The scarecrow nodded.

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek sounded from behind. One and all they turned to look at the nearby woodsman's cabin, which they must have mistaken for his own. Standing atop it was the figure that Boq hated the most, just as he had remembered her from that fateful morning at Colwen Grounds. But there was something different about her: there was a frantic look in her eyes. Like she had lost everything and didn't care what happened next.

He knew that look: he had seen it in his own eyes just before he had walked in on her and her sister, and when he had been turned into this metal monstrosity.

"You call _that_ long?" she mocked at the little girl. "Why, you've just barely begun." She then glared down at the Scarecrow. "Helping her along, I see? Well, stay away from her!"

"You don't frighten me!" the Scarecrow said.

"Do I, now?" the green monstrosity barked. Suddenly there was a flash of fire and the Scarecrow jumped back. Boq almost threw himself upon the flames, snuffing them out with his metallic body.

Another manic howl of mocking laughter rose up from the little green figure up on the roof, before she took off into the sky. Boq slowly pushed himself up onto his feet. He noticed that the little girl had jumped back in fright as well.

"Don't be afraid of her, Dorothy," the Scarecrow said to the little girl. "I'll see you get safely to the Wizard now, whether I get a brain or not!"

"Me too!" Boq said, then turned towards where the Witch had departed and made a rude gesture in her direction.

"Oh!" the innocent-looking little girl said to both of them. "You're the best friends I've ever had." Her face contorted in thought.

"What is it, Dorothy?" Boq asked.

"It's the strangest thing," she said. "I feel as if I've met you before, but I couldn't have, could I?"

"Well, I don't think so." Boq said. "I was standing over there, rusted for the longest time."

"And I haven't got a brain," the Scarecrow said. "So I wouldn't know if I met you before."

"Still, I wish I could remember." she said at last. "Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore. We have each other now, don't we?" She offered an arm to each of them.

"That's right!" the Scarecrow said.

"We do!" Boq added.

"To Oz?" she asked.

"To Oz!" they said together, wrapping their arms in hers.

* * *

><p>Traveling with this little girl was not as bad as Boq may have first thought. That odd-looking creature that she adored - Lotto, or was it Dodo? - usually only yapped. Fortunately, being made of tin had some advantages: namely, Boq was never hurt very badly. If Troto tried to bite him, it would hurt the little yapping thing more that it would hurt him.<p>

He also discovered that, since he did not tire, he did not have to sleep as much as he thought he did. The Scarecrow, also, did not have to sleep. This meant that, while the little girl - whose name was Dorothy - and her dog Tootoo slept, these two could be up together and talk.

Which he both looked forward to and secretly dreaded. He looked forward to it because the Scarecrow's face reminded him fiercely of someone he knew...

He dreaded if it actually was the person he thought it was.

One night, the evening after he had been un-rusted, they were on the edge of the Pine Barrens, sleeping beneath the trees. Dorothy was fast asleep, her dog huddled up next to her. They lit no fire, because, as it turned out, the Scarecrow was stuffed with straw and was rather fearful of fire. This did not worry Boq much, because he didn't feel the chill of the cold as much as he used to.

"Scarecrow?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly. I might not be able to give you the right answer, because after all, I'm just a fool with no brain."

"Why do you want a brain?"

"Well," the Scarecrow began. "I really don't know. I mean, if I had a brain, I'd be able to think about the reasons why I'd want one. As I don't, I can't really say why I'd want a brain."

"Well, wouldn't you want a heart instead?"

"A brainless fool wouldn't know what to do with a heart if he had one." the Scarecrow returned.

"I had both once," Boq said. "And I'd prefer a heart. After all, I used to be able to love, but without a heart, I cannot love."

"Still," the Scarecrow said at last. "I'd still prefer brains."

Boq said nothing, but turned away. This was not possible. The Fiyero Tiggular he knew was a party-animal, who didn't care about brains or intelligence or anything. It was quite impossible for this odd-looking straw-man to have been the one he had lost Glinda to: after all, if he _had_ been, than surely Glinda would not be with him anymore. Boq had hope, but it was a faint and fading hope.

This was definitely not Fiyero.

* * *

><p>The next day passed relatively easy, though they did have to brave the Pine Barrens. No sign of any Kalidahs. Part of Boq wanted to face them again: after all, with this fine tin body, he would not be able to be harmed by them. He would protect them quite easily, no matter what creatures try to attack...<p>

Oh my!

They were soon beset upon by a Lion. Not a lion, but a _real_ Lion: one that could speak. Boq thought he recognized it, but there was not much to be seen. The beast smacked them around for a little while until the little yapping thing barked at him.

He fell to pieces. As Dorothy began scolding the Lion for what she saw as an attack on her poor pet, Boq noticed the way the huge cat was shivering and shaking. It could be...No, it couldn't be. That was three years ago. Then again, Animals grew faster than normal Ozians. A two year-old Animal was, in some cases, fully grown. It was quite possible that this nerve-less pussy-cat might be _the_ Lion cub.

He had been there that day. He had crowded around Dr. Nikadik's cage with as much enthusiasm as the rest of them had...except for the green thing. She was freaking out, shouting silly concerns about the little thing. Then suddenly there was an explosion, and he was moving about jerkingly, he couldn't help himself. When he had at last been shaken out of whatever had happened, the cage was gone.

So she _was_ a witch, all along, he noted.

Maybe this thing knew about it.

They made camp that night and, because of the coldness, they were more than able to make a fire. The Scarecrow, of course, kept his distance. At last Dorothy and the little yapping thing were asleep. The Lion was nervously pacing, jumping at the shadows made by the light of the fire.

"Uh, Lion?"

"Who's there? What are you?" the Lion cried, jumping up to his feet. "Put 'em up, put 'em..." But Boq clamped his metal hands over the Lion's snout.

"Shh!" he hissed. "I don't want to wake up Dorothy." A nod of the Lion's great mane gave Boq the okay to let him go.

"Why do you want to ask the Wizard for courage?" he asked at last.

"You heard me," the Lion answered. "Because I'm a coward."

"But, have you been a coward all your life?" he asked. "I mean, were you born that way?"

"I think so," he pondered. "I can't remember a single time I wasn't afraid of something."

"I see." Boq said. _Well, that would make sense, if he had indeed been very young when Dr. Nikadik had caged him, possibly before he could remember._

But this was getting to be ridiculous. Boq needed to get Dorothy's help against the Wicked Witch. The Scarecrow told her that the witch was angry at her because she had killed her sister. A twinge of sadness eked through Boq's being, until he remembered what she had done to him. Still, she _could_ be able to rid him of the other one, the greener one.

The Scarecrow had nothing against her, and therefore was just with Dorothy out of loyalty to her. If the Witch could indeed command fire like he had seen her do before, that made him quite useless against her when push finally came to shove. But Boq needed to get the rest of them on his side, because he needed his vengeance.

She _had_ turned him into tin, and made it impossible for Glinda to possibly love him again (if she really _had_ loved him to begin with). Therefore he had to get back at her, one way or another. And he needed their help. He had read the papers, and knew that the Wizard waged something of a cold war against the Witch: he must want her dead as well. He also knew the people hated the Witch: if he could just give them enough reason to go up against her, then they could finally corner the witch and close upon her like a pair of pincers.

Not pincers, clampers.

This brought something into Boq's mind. He saw the Lion was curled up in a ball over by the fire. He leaned over close to him and clapped his hands loudly by the Lion's ears.

It worked. The Lion was up and curled into a ball, bawling his eyes and begging for help. A wicked light appeared in Boq's eyes. Perhaps he could use the Lion's cowardice to his own advantage.

"Mr. Tin-man!" he turned and noted that Dorothy was, by now, wide awake. "Please stop! Can't you see he's frightened?"

"Oh," he stopped, taking a step back. "I wouldn't know, I haven't got a heart."

She nodded in recognition then went back to sleep. At least that excuse would work on them, and at least he had gotten away with it. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt now. Maybe now he could enact his plan against the Witch.

Vengeance would be sweet.

* * *

><p>The rest of the trip to the Emerald City was interesting to say the least. They encountered the gulch that he and Nessa had crossed over, which the Lion made short work of by jumping across the gap. An encounter with Kalidahs, a short trip down the Munchkin-river and soon they were within sight of the Emerald City. The poppy-field complicated things, and Boq feared that it was the doing of the Witch. He never recalled seeing any poppies outside the carriage when he and Nessa had ridden past the Emerald City three years ago. It <em>must<em> be her fault.

Fortunately, an unexpected snow-storm saved them from a fate worse than death.

They found the welcome at the Emerald City to be quite cordial, despite having to wear green glasses and waiting for what seemed like hours on end to see the Wizard. Even the sudden appearance of the Witch in the sky was quickly forgotten once they were inside the Emerald Palace. They stood before the throne of the Wizard and saw him as a giant head, who had only one command.

_Kill the Wicked Witch of the West_.

It was exactly what he had been desiring. Now they were _ordered_ to do it.

As they were leaving the city, a rowdy bunch of peasants were running after them, goading them on with their mission. At first they were chanting something, now their chant had risen up into a battle song.

_Wickedness must be punished  
>Evil effectively eliminated<br>Wickedness must be punished  
>Kill the Witch!<em>

Here was his moment. They were in the streets of a small village outside the city, the rest of them scurrying off one way or another. The Scarecrow was nowhere to be found, and neither were Dorothy and her yapping thing. At the sight of the villagers with their torches and pitch-forks, the Lion ran into a dark alley-way and was cowering in fear. Boq found a porch of one of the houses, got up on it and spoke to the angry villagers.

"Yes, we're off to kill the Witch!" he said, to the general cheers of the crowd. "But, this is more than just a service to the Wizard! Why, I have a _personal_ score to settle with E..." But he halted. He knew her name, but she didn't deserve to be called that name, after what she had done.

"With the Witch!" he wailed.

_It's due to her I'm made of tin  
>Her spell made this occur<em>  
><em>So, for once, I'm glad I'm heartless<br>I'll be heartless killing _her!

More cheers from those around. Boq looked up and saw, standing on a wall of the Emerald City, a lovely blond with the cod-faced head _Shiz_-tress of Shiz. He recognized her, even dressed up in her blue dress and wearing, of all things, a princess tiara. It fit, for only she deserved to be attired as such. If he had a heart, surely it was leaping by now.

_Glinda_.

"But I'm not the only one!" he said, trying to save face. Maybe she thought he was being a little harsh. No, he was not and he would prove it. He turned towards the alley and waved for the Lion. He shook his mane and turned away.

"Oh, come on, you!" he almost leaped at the Lion, grasping only onto his long tail. "Tell the nice people about that day in class! Remember? Tell them about how you were just a little cub, and she _cub-napped_ you!"

"No!" the Lion wept, finally pulling free of Boq's metal clutches. Saving face, he turned back to the crowd and pointed into the alley.

_See? The Lion also has a grievance to repay  
>If she'd let him fight his own battles<br>When he was young  
>He wouldn't be a coward today!<em>

More cheers and cries of "Kill the Witch!" arose from the crowd. He rose his ax in one hand and a metal hand in the other. It felt good to be seen, to have so many people sympathize with his problem, to have them on his side when the time came. Looking up, he saw that Glinda wasn't looking at him. Did all this mean nothing to her? In fact, she looked shocked beyond belief, while the head _Shiz_-tress waved at them and gave them her blessing.

"Good fortune, witch-hunters!" she cried out.

On they went, a group of angry villagers behind them. They did not go far, for they had not the stomach to match their violent words or appearances. One by one, the Lion and Dorothy (with Frofro in hand) joined them. Just as Boq was about to ask where the Scarecrow was, he saw him appearing, tucking something into the folds of his jacket.

"Where did _you_ go?" Boq asked.

"Oh, nowhere." he returned. "Just stepped out of sight to fix my stuffing, you know?"

He nodded, then turned his gaze to the western sky. It was time now, everything was set. They had their mandate and were now on their way: one way or another, he would be avenged for the loss of his heart on the Witch.

A smile crept across Boq's face.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I know it's kind of hard to be rooting for Boq in this chapter, but I can assure you that he'll be better in the next chapter. As you can see, he also is becoming more sinister, somewhat like Nessarose, which he will later notice.)<strong>

**(Sparse song-verse here and there, with some influence from _The Wizard of Oz_ and from the book _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_. Will try to get the new chapter posted a.s.a.p. It'll probably be the last one, because I think I can wrap the whole story up in only one more chapter.)**


	12. The Downfall of Boq and Nessa

**(AN: And now we come to the end. I've rewritten a few _Wizard of Oz_ facts so that they go along well with the story, and seem a little bit more..._Wicked_. Lastly, I might go back and edit "The Storm" chapter so we find out how Glinda knows how the ruby slippers work.)**

**(Also, I've some more lose ends to tie up, since I get this horrible mental image of both _MadTV_ and _Family Guy_'s parody of this scene, so it's gonna get fixed.)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Downfall of Boq and Nessa<strong>

The Witch was dead. He had heard the rumors that she could be melted by water, but never believed them until he saw it with his own eyes. Steam was rising up from the floor, and she was screaming as if she had been dipped in black lime. It seemed like a very anticlimactic ending for someone he hated so much. She should have died differently - maybe he should have been the one to do it.

Once she was gone, nothing more than a pile of clothes and that tall-peaked hat lying upon the floors of her castle - the Scarecrow had called it Kiamo Ko - Boq suddenly felt empty. As much as he tried to deny it, she had saved his life. If not, he knew that her sister's botched love-spell would surely have killed him. He remembered the pain in his chest when the spell was cast, his last memories of his life as flesh.

Now she was dead, just as he had wanted of her: he had his vengeance.

So why didn't he feel better?

The rest of the journey seemed as empty as he felt now. But what made this all the more interesting was the fact that the Wizard was in fact nothing of the sort: just a little old man behind a curtain. However, he made good on his promise, or, at least, as far as he could. Though he appeared to be as grateful as the rest for the plush heart he had put in his chest and the heart-clock that he had given as 'proof' that he had a heart inside him, Boq really didn't feel much different.

Then the little humbug of a wizard vanished, before he could make good on his promise to take Dorothy back to her home.

Suddenly, a smile crept across Boq's face. The bubble machine of Glinda the Good appeared. He would now have his chance of finally meeting her, of knowing the truth, the definite truth.

Dorothy seemed pleased to see her as well. As she approached them, Boq thought he saw that the corners of her eyes were a little bit inflamed, as if made raw by the flow of water.

Or tears?

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Would you help me? C-Can you help me?"

"Why," Glinda returned. "You don't need to be helped any longer, dear. You've always had the power to go back to Kansas."

"I have?" she exclaimed. "How?"

"And more importantly," the Scarecrow scrutinized. "Why didn't you tell her before?"

"Because I didn't know," Glinda said. She then presented the book before them. "I learned about the spell that made the ruby slippers powerful in this book. It was the only thing left in the Witch's castle."

"So, how do I get home?" Dorothy asked.

"Oh, it's quite simple, really," she returned. "Just close your eyes, click your heels together three times and say where you want to go."

"And what about Toto?"

_So_ that_ was the name of that infernal yapping thing._

"Just keep him safe in your arms and he'll go back with you." Glinda said, waving at the little yapping thing with her wand.

She exclaimed, but then Boq saw that the little girl was starting to weep. She turned to them all.

"I guess this means goodbye," she said. "I wish there were a way I could reach you here in Oz, 'cuz I'd write to you every day from Kansas, and twice on weekends!" She started tearing up, then walked over to the Scarecrow.

"Goodbye, Scarecrow." she said. "You know, you shouldn't call yourself a fool. Why, through everything we've been through together, and all the plans you've planned and all the thoughts you've _thunk_, I reckon you've always had the best brains all along!" She leaned up on her heels and kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Lion." she bade to the large cat, petting his mane. "Aww, what a cute little red bow! You know, I'm so proud of you: you were the bravest one of us, even in the roughest parts. I guess you've got plenty of courage to take on a dozen witches!"

"Aw, shucks, Dorothy," the Lion said. "If it hadn't been for you, I don't think I'd ever found my courage." She reached up and kissed his nose, then turned to Boq.

"Goodbye, Tin Man." she wiped at his eyes with her hands. "Please don't cry, I won't have you rusting away on my account." _I'm not crying_, Boq thought. "You know, Scarecrow and the Lion told me about what happened when they came to rescue me. I reckon that a _real_ heart-less person would have just bolted and ran when those flying monkeys showed up. But you didn't: because of that, I think you have the biggest, kindest heart of any person I've ever known."

"Thank you, Dorothy." Boq said. _If only that were true_, he thought.

She took one of the paws of her pet and waved it at each of them, then turned to Glinda.

"When can I leave?"

"Whenever you like." she said. "Farewell, Dorothy, and Oz-speed."

She closed her eyes, clicked the heels together. "There's no place like home! I want to go home now!"

A sudden flash of red light and, to Boq's supreme surprise, Dorothy and her little yapping dog were gone.

"Well," Glinda said. "Now that _that_ is settled."

The Scarecrow whispered something to Glinda, while Boq was trying to make up his mind, force himself to do what he used to do so easily. But now she was a somebody, a _real_ somebody, a powerful sorceress. How could he approach her?

The straw-man was walking away. It was now or never.

"E-Excuse me?" he stammered. "Miss Glinda?"

She turned around, curious to see who it was who had spoken.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember me?" he asked. "We went to school together at Shiz, three years ago."

"I'm terribly sorry," she said. "But I would have remembered a boy made of metal."

"Miss Galinda!" he called out.

She turned around, a suspicious look on her lovely little face.

"What did you call me?"

"That was what you were called back then, right?"

She looked at him suspiciously, then walked off towards the Throne Room. He _clanked_ after her.

"I think you have me mistaken for somebody else." she exclaimed.

"I know you're Glinda now," he said. "But you were Galinda back then." She turned around and he held out his arms. "It's me, Galinda!"

"Bick?"

He sighed. "You got after Dr. Dillamond for mispronouncing my name, but after three years, you still can't say mine properly."

She smiled a little easily. "Boq, that was it." She then looked at his new form. "What in Oz's name happened to you?"

"It's a long story."

"I have plenty of time." She walked over to the throne, over which the Great Head had once floated, and gracefully took a seat. His heart skipped a beat, he had almost forgotten how graceful she was, like she did not even walk upon the earth, but floated just over it.

"Now, please, tell me your story."

* * *

><p>He sat upon a stool at the edge of the throne while Glinda listened intently to his story. Once it was finally over, she rose up from off the throne and paced about him a little.<p>

"Boq," she said, using his right name for the first time in ages. "I feel you've been terribly misled about me."

"What do you mean?"

"And it's part...no, not part. It's _all_ my fault. I see that now."

"What's your fault?"

She turned to him, her blue eyes brimming with tears that she refused to let fall. They just sat there, welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill forth her sadness.

"I should have told you before, all those years ago," she began. "But then I cared for no one but myself, and getting my way." She paused, sniffing back her tears.

"I don't love you, Boq. I never did."

Those eight words hit Boq like a mountain. He knew how he felt about her, he was practically smitten in every definition of the word. But she didn't even return the feeling? How dare she!

A bitter sensation appeared in the pit of his stomach. How dare she? No, how dare _he_. He had done exactly the same thing before...

"I tried to ignore you," she continued. "and hope to Oz you'd take my hints and go away. But that day when F...when _he_ came along, you stood in the way of me and my 'prince.' I shoved you off on Nessa, and thought no more of it." She tried to sniff back the tears. "After hearing your story, I now see it." She looked away, a look of horror on her face.

"I've destroyed your lives."

"What? No! How could you ever do that! It wasn't you, it was Nessarose and her sister the W..."

"Don't say anymore!" she rose a hand to silence him. "I shoved you onto Nessarose, and she believed that you loved her for _her_, and not because of her wheel-chair. You were mad at me, that day at the train station, I see that now. I tried to talk Nessa out of it, but she was determined to believe that _you_ were the one for her. She was _so_ wanting to believe that she could be loved for herself, she became a tyrant for love.

"And it's because I didn't tell you the truth sooner that you tried to leave her, and she wounded you so." She scoffed. "Glinda the Good: I'm not worthy of the name."

He wanted to comfort her, to reach out and touch her face, but he felt guilt for thinking such.

"It's all going to change, Boq." she said. "I promised to be good, and I will." She turned back to him. "I sincerely and humbly apologize for what I've done to you." Quickly she turned away. "I don't ask for your forgiveness, for I know I don't deserve it."

He turned away himself.

"Where is she?" he asked. "Nessarose."

"Center Munch." she returned. "Beneath Dorothy's house."

He walked out of the Throne Room, not even turning back as he heard Glinda breaking out in tears.

* * *

><p>Once, he had mentally thanked Dorothy for killing the Wicked Witch of the East: she wasn't there to imprison him anymore. Now he realized that he had <em>always<em> played the prisoner to Glinda.

He stood upon the lawn at Center Munch, the old gray farm-house looming like a portent of doom on the edge of time. Yet there it was, taunting him forever.

At last he understood, as he had that moment in the Throne Room when Glinda uttered those eight words that had shattered his whole world concerning her. He now saw himself as he had been toward Nessarose - in contrast, Glinda had indeed been very good and kind in her letting him down. He had done it with even less tact, so callously.

He had known that rejection from Glinda before he had even met Nessarose. He thought back to that time at the Oz-Dust, where he turned away from Galinda and instead to Nessarose. It was true, they _did_ deserve each other. And he took her for granted, nay, he _hated_ her. The charming, intelligent young Munchkin lad had been turned into a hateful man trapped in a metal suit.

He knelt down and reached at the grass, where she had laid. She was gone now, and there would be no more of them. He would live on, of course, for how long, he did not exactly know. But he would live on, and know that he could have at last found love, found the one who loved him more than anything in the world - for surely she did, if she was ready to break all of Munchkinland just to be with him. Maybe not the most comforting thought, but she had been a victim of Glinda's games, as much as he had been. But it was worse, for he had not only been a victim, but an antagonist, pushing her away until she was ready to kill him to keep him all to herself.

There was a nicer Nessarose Thropp. He had seen only glimpses of that one: at the Oz-Dust Ballroom, all along the journey back to Colwen Grounds. She had existed somewhere inside the woman he once hated. That woman wanted to love him, for only she understood him as he was now. Now, that he had alienated her beyond belief, driven her unto death, now he saw the truth.

_Now I _know _I've got a heart_, Boq felt at last, reaching up to his chest. _'Cuz it's breaking_.

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><p><strong>(AN: And...that's all, folks)<strong>

**(Tell me what you thought of it.)**

**(Timeline of events taken from _Of Saints and Sinners_. Though it pertains to its own musical-verse saga, the timeline of events goes with all my musical-verse tales of _Wicked_ unless said otherwise. I hope I delivered with this chapter. Of course, Glinda won't speak out in behalf of Elphaba because she swore that she wouldn't.)**

**(Thank you for reviewing. I now have hope that my other stories can succeed! :D Until next time, _keep on Defying Gravity_.)**


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